


The Long Haul

by codedredalert



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Action, Could Be Canon, Friendship, Gen, Investigation, Seven Years Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-22 16:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8292890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codedredalert/pseuds/codedredalert
Summary: Hibari does long missions. Gokudera doesn't. That is, until Tsuna decides to send them deep into Chiavarone territory, where trouble with another famiglia is stirring. Together.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> General warning for a lot of swearing, and violence. If there's anything else, there will be chapter specific warnings.

 

Dec 13

Gokudera hated long missions.

It was hardly a secret. In the eight years since the Tenth had graciously accepted him as part of Vongola, he'd gone on exactly one long mission. It had been a three-month search and sabotage, and he'd been sent with Yamamoto and Lambo. Needless to say, it was disastrously terminated even before the month was out, and the three of them hadn't been allowed to spend more than a week together since. Unless  _supervised._ How humiliating.

Gokudera maintained that it had completely been the baseball freak and the idiot cow's fault, even though there was clear evidence of C4 being set off at what  _used to be_  a hotel. As far as the storm guardian was concerned, it as good as never happened and the family obliged, except on Christmas when a little too much alcohol made all sorts of embarrassing stories surface. He made sure to discretely kick any offender for their transgression, unless of course, it was the Tenth who saw fit to bring The Incident up, in which case Gokudera only raised a mild verbal protest. Tsuna—when it was just family, it was supposed to be 'Tsuna' and not 'Tenth'—never meant any harm and Gokudera could take a little jibing. Just a little.

That was all that the notion of Gokudera on a long mission was: a slightly shameful memory at worst and a joke at best. However, for some inexplicable reason, the Tenth had decided that Gokudera was the perfect choice for this particular mission. Never mind that the last long mission had become a permanent scar on Gokudera's psyche. Never mind that Gokudera hadn't been on the field proper for at least two years straight. Never  _mind_  that the Tenth had no other conceivable way of dealing with the sheer volumes of paperwork Gokudera had to wrangle with.

"Trust me, I need you,  _specifically you,_ on this mission," the Tenth had said, looking straight into Gokudera's eyes. "You know I wouldn't ask otherwise. Please, Hayato?" The small brunette had smiled, caramel eyes conveying polite apology and gentle imploring all at once. Gokudera had hesitated just a fraction of a second, then bowed to his boss' wishes. There was nothing he wouldn't do for Sawada Tsunayoshi,  _Vongola Decimo_ , and damnit they both knew it.

"In that case, it is my honour to go, Tenth," Gokudera said.

"Thank you," the Tenth had breathed in relief. "Oh, Gokudera-kun? One more thing, if you don't mind."

"Yes, Tenth?"

"Try to keep Hibari-san in line for me?"

Gokudera had a brilliant mind, a fact freely acknowledged both within the Famiglia and without. He didn't have an eidetic memory, but it was a near thing. Information and its processing just came readily to him, provided he had a moment to focus. Gokudera himself would grudgingly admit that he was still the 'blow stuff up first and rationalise it later' type, but no one could deny that the man was  _intelligent—_ between Irie and himself, Vongola could execute the complete takeover of entire rival families so smoothly that the family would not realise they'd become a subsidiary until they'd been invited to the Vongola's private Christmas dinner three years in a row.

He beat Fuuta in chess easily, provided no cow-print shirt wearing kid started kicking at his chair until he just overturned the damn table and threw said kid into the pool from the window. He had the complete respect of the entire IT sect in the Vongola, a feat harder to achieve than it sounded, what with the sheer solidarity of the 'geeksquad', as they were fondly—or sometimes  _not_  so fondly—referred to. In fact, Gokudera was occasionally called a genius, and with four languages firmly under his belt and a fifth on the way, he was hardly humble enough to deny it.

This self-same almost-genius, eloquent Gokudera froze and stared at his beloved boss, who had the most serene and trusting smile upon his face.

" _What?_ "

-/\\-

20 Dec

Gokudera loved and respected his boss from the bottom of his heart, he truly did, but sometimes he had to wonder if the man was mad. The selection of the tenth generation's guardians spoke volumes in itself. The fact that Gokudera stood among them as right-hand was solid evidence that the Tenth was generous, and willing to disregard centuries of tradition for those close to him.

Still, the rest of the guardians were a crew so motley that they'd  _literally_  been laughed at when they'd been officially presented to the underworld. A wishy-washy baseball nut, a boxing enthusiast with no concept of an indoor voice, a crybaby cow kid, a girl who looked like she would faint if she stood in the sun too long, a convicted mass murderer whose idea of fun was sending people to hell, and a violent loner who would sooner hit you than help you.

Speaking of which, the icing on this particular half-baked cake was his mission partner: the irritable, particular and _very_  unforgiving Hibari Kyouya, who would not appreciate Gokudera's presence one whit. Sure, the cloud guardian had always been given certain liberties over the rest, but Hibari's complete disregard of his obligations to the family just rubbed Gokudera wrong in every way. A good man and a great boss like the Tenth should not need to wheedle favours from his own guardians, especially when said favours were for the guardian to do his damn duty.

Right now, Hibari was late and damn if Gokudera was going to take this kind of bullshit. Muttering curses and not bothering to even keep track of what language he was using anymore, he tried to call Hibari's cellphone for the forty-third time.

Like the previous forty-two times, he was sent straight to voicemail.

"Where the fuck are you, you bastard?" Gokudera snarled before he hung up.

Taking a deep breath, he took the phone away from his ear long enough to check the time, then hit redial. Again.

-/\\-

Hibari had no particular distaste for long missions. There was a solace in long journeys where no one knew him on the street and he could do as he pleased without anyone demanding he take responsibility. The foreign lands he saw were interesting enough, and it made home so much sweeter when he returned.

It helped that Hibari had a knack for the long game. Despite appearances, he knew when to give, when to pressure, when to wait. Oh, and how he could wait. Sometimes it amazed even himself. He hadn't been quite so patient when younger, but now, now he was someone whose name was held in high regard among the mafia elite and business world.  _Hibari Kyouya, Vongola Cloud_ , they whispered in quiet awe, underlined by an instinctual wariness when he walked through their halls without care of the danger.

"A remarkably patient man provided he gets his way in the end," Chiavarone had commented once, only half in jest.

The little brunette, Sawada, had probably noticed the same thing and as a result, Hibari was usually sent for the jobs that took months and a sharp mind to complete. He didn't mind, as long as Sawada made it worth his while. Long missions were never as exciting as short ones, and had periods of utter tedium. They took planning, research, and politicking, which Hibari despised. He much preferred when the little sometimes-carnivore said nothing at all and just gave him a folder with a little red tag in the top right hand corner. Utterly decimating buildings and striking fear into the hearts of complacent, arrogant men was the perfect description of what Hibari thought was a good time.

Sharing a jet with the silver-haired, chain smoking, obnoxious man who declared himself Hibari's superior, on the other hand, was  _not_ Hibari's idea of a good time. In fact, Hibari doubted it was anyone's idea of a good time. Gokudera Hayato had no idea how to conduct himself around Hibari, and Hibari was not interested enough to invest the time needed to educate him. Hibari already had the Italian mixed-blood figured out. Mid-range explosives expert, pathetically incapable of handling his emotions for a man of twenty-two, intelligent but simply not fast enough to put up a decent fight against Hibari. Then there was the myriad of personal issues he came with. Hibari snorted just thinking about them.

Simply put, Gokudera Hayato was a herbivore who could bite if he was driven to, but his fangs would never so much as touch Hibari. The Italian mixed-blood should have stayed behind his desk in the Vongola tenth generation's main house in Japan, or better yet, gone to the traditional family house in Italy where he would be out of sight, out of mind, and out of Hibari's beloved Namimori.

"You're late," Gokudera scowled, ignorant of Hibari's mental tirade against him. Hibari narrowed his eyes. He was _not_ late. Takeoff was at 2050, and if Gokudera wanted to be two hours early, that was his prerogative. Hibari was not obliged to obey a text that came at two AM asking him to turn up at 1800, especially when said text came rudely worded and from someone he held little regard for.

"You going to answer for yourself?" Gokudera demanded as he stood, pulling up the handle of his luggage and rolling it along with him as Hibari started walking away. Hibari did not even bother to look back at the man.

"Hey, I'm talking to you, asshole! Show some respect!"

Hibari frowned. This was going to be a very long flight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crossposting from FFnet. Updates on Ao3 will be once a month until we catch up with FFnet.   
> I've fallen out of the fandom but I want to finish this. Any encouragement you could give would be nice ^_^


	2. Arrival

22 Dec

Hibari hated travelling on a  _good_ day. Putting him through 45 hours of transit with one Gokudera Hayato was certified  _hell_.

He couldn't enjoy the stopover in Singapore because the odd hours of arrival and departure just drained all his energy. He hadn't been allowed to book a first class suite. He hadn't even been allowed to book just half of business class to get some personal space. No, he'd been forced to sit right next to the Storm guardian and endure the non-stop, infernal typing and the white glare from the silver-haired man's laptop for twelve hours of flight.

And  _after_  all that, Hibari hadn't even been allowed to get a driver to get to Naples. Instead, he had been subjected to the morning rush crowds on the train, first to Rome's central terminal, and from there to the central Napoli terminal. The Italian  _then_  insisted on eating lunch in the city, when both of them still had bags and coats and jetlag to deal with. Hibari would have been happy to buy something to go just so he could get out of the crowded, noisy, bustling public, but the silver haired man  _had_ to have a  _five course_  meal. As Hibari had no idea where or when anything was happening until they visited Chiavarone on Christmas' eve in two days' time, he sat there and glared as the other typed and ate and texted and took calls. Only three— _three_ —hours later did they get into a taxi to go to whatever heaven-forsaken place the miser had picked out for the mission's duration.

In hindsight, not having Kusakabe arrange his travel schedule and accommodation was a mistake.

"We should have taken the jet," Hibari growled. The silver haired man looked up from his laptop in surprise, which quickly turned to annoyance.

"We're supposed to be undercover," Gokudera said sharply.

"We should have taken first class," Hibari amended generously, sleep deprivation and travel fatigue showing in the edge of his voice.

"It's too expensive. I already let you take business, what more do you want?" Gokudera snapped his laptop shut, his trademark no-nonsense temper starting to strain at the edges. Hibari was secretly relieved, though he could still hear the 'tap tap tap' in the back of his head.

"First class," Hibari said simply. Did the half-Italian not hear him the first time?

"What normal twenty-three year old can afford first class?" Gokudera hissed. Hibari looked at him with disdain.

"Forget it," Gokudera sighed. His phone buzzed and he whipped it out of his pocket and started tapping away on that instead. Hibari turned to look out the window, feeling slightly nauseous with all the electronics. They seemed to be heading to the less well-off part of town. Hibari could see unintelligible symbols sprayed onto walls as the taxi passed some smaller alleys. That irked him. He reached for his tonfa even as the blatant displays of disrespect to public property and the law went out of sight. Hibari frowned.

Perhaps if he slept, this would all be over quickly.

Just as he thought so, the taxi pulled up in front of a five story building that was decidedly unimpressive. Gray and visibly weathered, their lodging fit right in with the rest of the vandalised street. Nevertheless, Hibari exited the cab promptly, refusing to spend longer than he had to inside the suffocating vehicle. The air was brisk and cold, a welcome reprieve from the stuffy over-heating that seemed to be present inside all the buildings and public transport in Europe.

Hibari wondered briefly if the apartment would be the type with central heating or self-contained heating. He hoped it was the latter. Europeans did not seem to realise that having the indoor thermostat at thirty-five degrees Celsius made the weather outside feel worse.

"I'll see the landlord and get the keys," Gokudera said. He entered the house without waiting for a reply, leaving Hibari standing outside with the bags the driver had helped lift out of the boot. Hibari made brief eye contact with the man, and the taxi pulled out of the driveway as if speed limits were suggestions. Hibari frowned slightly at that. It seemed that no one in this country had any respect for law or courtesy. Sometimes he wondered how the little sometimes-carnivore managed to convince him to leave Japan. Sometimes he wondered why he still let himself get talked into it every time.

"Got them, let's go. Fourth floor, unit A, all the way at the end," Gokudera said as he returned. He paused after he retrieved his bags to look at Hibari meaningfully. "There's a lift but it's small. You're not going to like it."

"We'll see," Hibari said, annoyed by the presumption. Gokudera merely shrugged and led the way inside, past a small area which served as a reception. It was small and rather bare, though there was a door that presumably led to wherever the landlord lived. Gokudera then opened the door to an empty broom cupboard and stood aside. Hibari stared at him.

"This is the lift," Gokudera explained. "You know, elevator?"

Hibari stared into the broom cupboard. There were a panel of buttons on the inside, but other than that, it looked like a three foot square empty storeroom. Gokudera seemed to have gotten tired of waiting though, and wheeled his own bags in before squeezing in himself.

"See you upstairs then. Fourth floor," he added as a reminder before he closed the door. It clicked and through the tiny glass and wire mesh window, Hibari could see the inside of the broom cupboard lurch up slowly.

Hibari turned on his heel, exited the reception and took the stairs.

Unit 4A was on the fifth floor, giving Hibari yet another reason to be annoyed with the place. The door was open when he got there, one of Gokudera's red suitcases set on its side to hold it ajar. Hibari stepped in, taking all the bags with him, including the one that had been used as a door stop. The door threatened to slam shut as a gust of cold air rushed by, but Hibari caught it with the back of his forearm and let it swing shut gently.

"You took the stairs after all," Gokudera commented as he came out to the entryway to retrieve his bag. He had taken off his shoes, and placed neatly to the side, against the wall. Hibari gave a short nod, then looked at the apartment. From the door, he could see almost nothing of the place, except for a wooden door set straight ahead and part of a beige sofa. A wall cut off the entryway from the living space, and Hibari found himself grudgingly approving of the tactical advantages of the layout. He removed his own shoes and placed them at the side, locking the door before lifting his bags into the apartment proper.

Three steps in and Hibari had a proper look at what would be 'home' for an indefinite amount of time to come.

It was mostly wooden doors and white painted walls, with pale cream or wooden furniture. The curtains to the balcony on the left and the carpet were different shades of blue, and the few framed paintings on the wall were all green and blue scenery; of river banks, or sailing boats. The beige sofa that could be glimpsed from the door looked over a low table to a television mounted on the opposite wall. That wall also had a door, which Gokudera was manoeuvring his bags through.

"You like it?" Gokudera asked as he caught Hibari's gaze.

"It's small," Hibari critiqued as he continued his survey of the place. There was not much left to see. Just a simple kitchen with an island counter that doubled as a dining table, with three high chairs along one side.

"It can't be helped," Gokudera replied. "We're on a budget." He looked up, green eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Shouldn't you be used to this? You're always the one on these sorts of jobs."

Hibari didn't think it worth mentioning that he'd supplemented the miserable budget with his own cash. It might give the man an excuse to cut off his budget entirely. Instead, Hibari narrowed his own eyes in return.

"I am always alone on 'these sorts of jobs'," he retorted stiffly. Gokudera shrugged, conceding the point. Hibari wheeled his bags in and parted the curtains to have a quick look out the balcony. It had the first sliding door Hibari had seen in this country, though it was made of full length glass. The balcony itself was short and wide, perhaps four long steps across and one easy step to the tall, concrete barrier that was the edge. The view was of the next building's windows.

"Fuck!"

"Quiet," Hibari said reflexively, turning back to the apartment. Gokudera stuck his head out from the room.

"You be quiet! There's only one bed, dumbass!"

Hibari had suspected that, with the size of the apartment. "Why didn't you check with the landlord before renting the flat?" he asked dryly, annoyed by the other's lack of foresight.

"Long story," Gokudera growled, one hand going up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "In short, I got a good deal on the place."

"Miser fool," Hibari commented, walking into the bedroom to have a look, and bringing his bags with him while he was at it. Sure enough, there was only a single albeit decent queen size bed. Hibari walked round it then back, looking it over with an analytic eye. Gokudera hovered, awaiting the verdict from the older man while running a hand through silver hair.

"It's settled then," Hibari decided at length, flipping his suitcases to lie flat on the floor on the side of the bed that was further from the window. Gokudera looked up, brows furrowed in confusion. Hibari—claustrophobic, crowd-hating  _Hibari_ —wasn't going to put up a fuss about the single bed? A pillow suddenly hit Gokudera in the face, and Hibari was moving the remaining pillow to the centre of the headboard.

"What?" Gokudera asked.

"You sleep outside," Hibari said simply, starting to unpack.

"Hell no," Gokudera replied, putting the pillow Hibari had thrown to him back on the bed. Hibari paused and looked up, a tonfa suddenly appearing in his left hand.

"Then fight," Hibari said, eyes narrowed.

"Look, can't we settle this like adults?" Gokudera asked. "We'll take turns by the week. And as a show of good faith, you can have the bed first. Agreed?"

Hibari made a noncommittal sound and promptly ignored the other thereafter. He started unpacking with the efficiency born of practice, emptying his suitcases quickly. After a moment, Gokudera seemed to have come to a decision and started unpacking as well. He took the drawers on the other side of the bed, and a busy silence filled the air, isolated but not uncomfortable.

Naturally, both of them discreetly noticed what the other had brought. Both of them were fighters, and an analyst and a diplomat in turn. It was impossible for them not to pick up on the arsenal the person in the same room was laying out.

Gokudera, as usual, had somehow managed to smuggle his weight in explosives on his person, and twice or three times that in his luggage. Hibari mentally snorted in contempt for both the airport security and the silver haired man's reliance on a bulky, one-use only weapon. The same thoughtlessness was evident in the clothes the other had brought. Hibari had noticed that Gokudera's bags were twice the size of his own, and now it became apparent why. Gokudera had brought his entire wardrobe along, as well as half his office. Stacks of paper and clothing steadily piled up on his side of the bed.

Chains, chunky jewellery, studded belts, t-shirts with loud print and ripped jeans also formed a few piles. Incredible, how the man thought that those delinquent-like articles of clothing were appropriate. Hibari was decidedly not impressed.

On the other side of the room, Gokudera was making similar observations in the background. His mind was whirling in its usual million mile a minute style; worrying about the Tenth, analysing the mission, calculating the schedule for the next few hours, the next day, the week, the mission's projected duration, the rundown of the different  _famiglia_  and their networks, the economy, the direct neighbourhood… Somewhere, along with all that, he noticed that Hibari had brought the absolute minimum along, and it was easily catalogued without conscious thought. All suits, a few sets of what looked suspiciously like  _Namimori's_  uniform, and a spare scarf in  _Namimori_  yellow.

Something felt off for a moment, and Gokudera paused to give a casual strand of thought space to take hold. Hibari seemed to have no weapons with him, which couldn't possibly be right. The Cloud guardian wouldn't simply walk around unarmed. Or maybe he would, Gokudera thought dryly. Though he had never seen it himself, Yamamoto swore blind that Hibari had thrashed Ryohei in hand to hand. Granted, that had been on New Year's, so that might have been the  _sake_  talking.

Gokudera reigned his conjecture in. Hibari had obviously brought his tonfa.

"Did you bring a gun?" Gokudera asked.

"No," Hibari replied, without looking up.

"Well, what did you bring, then?" Gokudera asked in a business-like tone. He caught the edge of a frown forming before Hibari briefly held up two cubes, purple edged with silver. Box weapons, probably hedgehogs.

"Is that all?" Gokudera asked. Hibari kept the cubes he had been holding up and continued unpacking as if Gokudera hadn't said anything.

"Be that way, bastard," Gokudera muttered, going back to his packing. His myriad of thoughts slid back into place and he ignored Hibari in favour of wondering whether the Tenth noticed a difference in the reports Irie and Fuuta were doing in his place.

-/\\-

Gokudera had a mental checklist for the day, and so far, he was doing pretty good. He'd finished reading and analysing the mission specs on the plane. He'd managed to arrange the catering and the staffing for the private Christmas dinner, as well as the Guardian-only after dinner presents. He'd settled the payment slips for all the staff for December, just in time for the long holiday. He'd proofread Mukuro's latest mission report. He'd filed Yamamoto's university alumni networking profile. He'd arranged for a new fake ID and passport for Chrome for her Myanmar mission. He'd filed Irie's medical reports. He'd paid Lambo's school fees.

And now as his list was slowly whittled down to the big, empty block of time dedicated to the vague, looming demand of 'the mission', Gokudera was faced with the unenviable choice of lethargic ennui and trying to pick apart Hibari Kyouya.

The Cloud guardian, of course, had finished unpacking and packing and had stood in the corner of the room, half-watching Gokudera with the look of a leopard only half-contemplating a herd of zebra from its lounging in a tree. Hibari had produced a phone and sent off a slow, deliberate series of texts, grey eyes flicking over as Gokudera laboriously tried to fit all his belongings into one modest chest of drawers.

Possessive bastard and his stupid power-plays, Gokudera groused as he took a moment to consider what the best way to keep his socks was. It was obvious that Hibari was not leaving until Gokudera did, just to reinforce his claim on the room.

Well, two could play that game, Gokudera decided, emptying out the bottom drawer again. He packed, unpacked and rearranged the drawers until he was satisfied that he had found the best arrangement. Then he stopped, took everything out methodically and tried out another arrangement that seemed like a good idea. Hibari seemed to have run out of things to text, and kept his phone, blatantly standing watch with a heavy, level gaze. Keeping a very careful blank face, Gokudera decided the previous arrangement really had been the best and redid his drawers. Hibari's distrustful stare intensified into a full out glower.

A lesser man would have fled. Perhaps that man would have been all the wiser for doing so.

With a very deliberate air of ignorance, Gokudera gathered his bags and left the room. He shoved his briefcase under the low coffee table and went to pack his mostly empty suitcases into the storeroom-pantry. The shelves were notably empty, not that Gokudera had expected anything else. There was an ironing board folded up against the wall, but no iron. Gokudera made a mental note to hunt for it later. Between Hibari and himself, they had enough suits to set up a small store. They  _needed_  an iron.

He walked out of the storeroom to find Hibari sitting at the kitchen corner, ankles crossed upon each other in a way that was deceptively neat. The bedroom door was shut, and Hibari's back was to the wall. Gokudera felt a flare of irritation and just the slightest twinge of resentment. They were meant to be family and here the ex-prefect was acting like Gokudera was about to stab him in the back.

Gokudera was many things, but a traitor he was  _not_.

Hibari's posture was perfectly calm, casual like he had been sitting there for hours instead of scarcely a minute. He did not look up.

How strange that someone could set upon you a stare that could bring titans to their knees, and in the very next moment not care the slightest whit for your existence. Gokudera felt his curiosity take a mental poke at the convoluted knot that was so out of place in his neatly woven mental map of  _who what when where why_.

Hibari Kyouya. Hibari Kyouya who'd commandeered an escalator school at the age of twelve and the healthcare system of an entire town by the time he was fourteen. Hibari Kyouya who talked about  _biting_  people and blatantly abused mammalian order classification to refer to others. Hibari Kyouya who regularly pulled off lengthy missions and returned with results that exceeded all expectations and  _mafioso_  divided in equal measure between commending him or baying for his blood.

He knew the dark haired man sitting at the table but did not understand him. He did not know where to even begin understanding him. He knew what Hibari did; he could rattle off Hibari's profile, his height, his weight, his blood type, his eye colour, his hair colour, his address… But what made the man tick? How did he think? What layers did he have to his personality? It all came up a large blank. Hibari was too jealous with his solitude, too guarded with himself.

With a grudging realisation, Gokudera knew that he had to be the one extending the hand of camaraderie, because Hibari sure wasn't going to. And this was a mission that needed them to work together, and if he couldn't trust Hibari, this was all going to go to hell in a handbasket.

And so, he graciously played the bigger man and opened the conversation. Because he was sure that was what the Tenth would have wanted.

"I'm going to take a look around the neighbourhood," Gokudera called, in the most amiable tone he had for all-but-strangers who should be family. "Want anything?"

"No," Hibari said, eyes languidly trailing down the page. Gokudera did not understand why he hadn't done that earlier on the plane, or why he had chosen to print and lug the papers when he could have easily read them off his laptop. Yet another observation that he could note but not see any significance in. All these little hints told volumes while leading absolutely nowhere. Frustrating.

"Do you want to come along?" Gokudera added pointedly, doing his best to keep his annoyance out of his voice and not doing so well.

"No," Hibari repeated. Gokudera shrugged as he put on his coat. He'd tried.

"Oh, by the way," Gokudera remembered just as he slipped on his shoes. "Look for the iron when you're done reading that and text me if you can't find it."

There was no reply from Hibari, and Gokudera wasn't going to stand around waiting for one, so he checked that he had his wallet, phone and key before stepping out and letting the door swing shut behind him. It locked with a gentle click and Gokudera sighed, reminding himself it would look very strange if he started cursing the second he set foot outside his door.

"Bastard," Gokudera allowed himself, before walking off.

-/\\-

 _Dear Hibari-san_ , the file read as the very first line of the headnotes.  _This mission is extremely delicate. Powerful families are involved. Discretion is of the utmost importance. Please proceed with caution._

Hibari frowned at the warning. From the beginning, he had been expecting something complicated for this mission. Why else would the sometimes-carnivore send the silver-haired man along? Why else would they be here, out of contact, flying business and hiding under false names in this cramped apartment?

Grey eyes flicked to the top of the file, where the families expected to be encountered were listed.  _Vongola, Chiavarone…Costeggiare_. He knew the name. It wasn't one of theirs.

" _Costeggiare_  are like Hollywood pirates," Chiavarone had said, with a special sort of distaste as he said the name. Hibari remembered the sudden dip in inflection as the blonde spoke. "Flashy but no class. Unusual for an old family. They took in too many of their hired smuggling men as members some time back, maybe a few generations ago. Made the mistake of making one a captain recently. Their management was a disaster after that. Internal politics, very messy. I think they'd upset you, Kyouya!"

Chiavarone had tried to finish his paragraph lightly, but Hibari knew him a bit too well to believe him—that smile was a bit too much teeth and promise. Ah, Hibari had thought. They'd killed one of his. Hibari could understand that.

After that, Hibari opened a map, and with sweeping fingers Chiavarone had pointed out  _Costeggiare_  territory; large chunks of the south and west, as well as a section in the south-east.

"Central is mine, mostly," Chiavarone said with the distinct lack of arrogance that came from truth. "They used to go around, or at least be polite when crossing. We had an arrangement. Now though…" His cheeks puffed out with an exhale.

"You are ridiculous," Hibari had commented and Chiavarone laughed.

"Oh, Kyouya, only you would say that to the face of the most handsome mafia boss in the world."

Hibari's eyes flicked to the side, an echo of his response that day as well, then back down to his file.

 _Discretion is of the utmost importance_ ; the neat, sans-serif font ran across the pages.  _Please proceed with caution._ Hibari smiled, somewhere between grim and expectant as certain words from the summary caught his eye.

_Profile influential persons. Evaluate strength. Take opportunities if available._

He uncapped his pen and began to make notes in the margins.

-/\\-

The area around the flat he'd rented had quite a few amenities. A grocery store, some small restaurants, a post office and, though it wasn't within walking distance  _per say_ , a department store.

It truly was winter, and by five, it was dark enough to be the dead of night. Gokudera stepped out of the grocery store, juggling the various bags and his wallet only to fumble for his phone to check exactly how long he'd spent inside the store. It took a while for his jetlagged mind to remember that it couldn't possibly be midnight, because he'd signed for the key before three.

He'd hurried back, though he made sure to be careful, looking both ways before he jaywalked. He could just imagine the Tenth's face if he added that to his report and smiled to himself as he jabbed the lift button with his elbow. He managed the door to 4A somehow, and felt the warmth wash over his face.

"I'm back," Gokudera called as he took off his shoes. Silence. "Hey, are you there?"

Still no reply. Gokudera figured that Hibari was just being an ass and shrugged out of his coat. He dumped the bag of household items near the storeroom door and put the foodstuff on the counter before returning to the storeroom. He shelved his purchases and noted there was still no sign of the iron. Hibari, of course, was also nowhere to be seen.

Gokudera packed away the foodstuff, mildly regretting doing the other bags first as the condensation from the meats, the milk and the cheese left small pools of water in the bag and on the table. After packing dry food away in the cupboards and tucking a first aid kit under the sink, Gokudera stood with a sense of accomplishment.

His good mood made him start on dinner early, right after he'd made himself a cup of coffee, black with plenty of sugar. He boiled some spaghetti and was just starting to fry mincemeat with basil, garlic, tomatoes and plenty of olive oil before he felt the instinctive rise of  _danger turn fight_  and he whirled around, chopping knife in hand to see Hibari standing in the bedroom doorway observing him.

"What were you doing?" Gokudera asked, straightening and going back to his work, even as the nagging feeling that told him not to take his eyes off the man standing across the room persisted. The silence that followed was indignant, as much as Gokudera could tell from trying to douse the spaghetti in cold water and stir the mincemeat so it wouldn't become a huge slab.

Curiosity seemed to have gotten the better of his fellow guardian, though, and the dark haired man eventually ended up standing nearby, looking over Gokudera's arms to the stove.

"This is?" Hibari asked, after several long moments of staring at the pot.

"Pasta sauce," Gokudera answered. He thought it had turned out quite well. It wasn't anything near the odd purples and near-luminescent oranges of Bianchi's usual concoctions, so that could only be a good sign. Hibari nodded once. Taking a spoon from the drawer and rinsing it, Hibari dished out a little and blew on it before popping it in his mouth. He chewed, paused, swallowed slowly. Gokudera looked at him expectantly.

"Disgusting," Hibari said bluntly, washing the spoon.  _Disgusting_? Well, good mood or no, Gokudera's pride wouldn't let him take  _that_  lying down.

"What, you think you can do better?" he challenged, pointing at Hibari with the wooden spoon he'd been using to stir the sauce.

Hibari did not deign to reply. He took his set of keys from the table and his coat from the hanger.

"Hey, where the fuck do you think you're going?" Gokudera demanded. Hibari glanced at him, then at the pot of pasta sauce, then looked away with what was obviously condescension as he put on his coat and changed to outside shoes.

"The hell is that supposed to mean!"

The door shut, and Gokudera chucked the spoon into the sink, cursing fluently. He'd done well, dammit. Would it kill the bastard to shut up, eat and be grateful that someone had spent time and effort cooking? The goddamn arrogance to actually tell him to his face that it was 'disgusting'… His cooking wasn't that bad! Just because his sister couldn't make anything in the kitchen except biohazards didn't mean shit. Surely it didn't warrant  _that_ …

Suddenly self-conscious, Gokudera tried the sauce himself. It tasted fine. Nothing to brag about, but not  _bad_.

"More for me, then," Gokudera said to the empty flat. He ate on the sofa, his laptop in front of him and the TV running the news in the background. Eventually his laptop battery died on him and he took that as a sign to wash the dishes and clingwrap the remaining plate of pasta and chuck it in the fridge.

He plugged in his laptop to charge and took advantage of Hibari's absence to use the shower. The water took forever to heat up, which was far from amusing in the dead of winter. He was back on the sofa, towelling his hair dry when the door clicked open. Gokudera's hand went for the gun he'd left on the low table in front of him, just in case, but it was just Hibari.

"Welcome back," Gokudera said sarcastically. Hibari ignored him.

"You're welcome, bastard," Gokudera added. Hibari ignored that too. The Cloud guardian added some things to the fridge and cupboards, before walking over to the bedroom, still holding one bag. It was printed with the logo of the department store. Gokudera frowned, checking the time on his laptop. Again, it wasn't that late, just shy of eight o'clock.

"That store is three-quarters of an hour away by foot," Gokudera said. He took in Hibari's ruffled hair and came to a conclusion he didn't like very much very quickly.

"YOU STOLE A MOTORCYCLE?" Gokudera demanded.

"I put it back."

"That's not the point," Gokudera retorted. "We're  _undercover_. What part of that don't you understand?"

Hibari then spoke the lengthiest statement that Gokudera had heard from him all day.

"I'm going to sleep. Wake me and I'll bite you to death."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to post early since I'm busy near the 15th this month. as always, it makes my day if you decide to say hi~


	3. Alias

 

23 Dec

It felt like he'd only just closed his eyes when the sudden jerk of  _falling_ woke him and he hit the floor, gasping awake and reaching awkwardly for his gun.

"Wake up," a dark shadow standing over him said. Gokudera squinted against the light and groaned, covering his eyes and slumping to the floor. His heart pounded in his chest, and there was no way he could go back to sleep now, not with adrenaline screaming his body and mind into action.

"Fuck, you nearly gave me a heart attack, you bastard."

Hibari did not appear the least bit sorry. He turned and walked out of Gokudera's line of sight, and there was the rush of water into ceramic. With a deep breath, Gokudera pulled himself up and slowly shuffled over to the counter.

"We should talk about the mission," Gokudera yawned, dragging out one of the high chairs. "God, what time is it?"

"Late," Hibari said, transferring his documents to the kitchen counter, which was clear of everything except a small plate and a bread knife. Gokudera rolled his eyes.

"Helpful," he said snidely, looking at the wall clock. "Eleven fifty?" he asked, squinting.

"Ten fifty," Hibari corrected, opening his assignment folder. He'd annotated the document in blue ink and pencil, with scribbled Japanese in the margins.

"It's not that late," Gokudera grumbled. "Didn't have to kick me off the sofa to wake me up." Hibari raised an eyebrow slightly, unimpressed. Gokudera would have returned the look if he weren't so tired. He yawned again.

"I'm not awake enough for this shit," he muttered, head slowly sinking towards the counter. A cup was placed before him and Gokudera drank it with a muttered word of thanks, nearly scalding his throat and not caring. "Worst coffee I've ever had," Gokudera commented as he waited for the caffeine to kick in and—nothing.

"It's tea," Hibari said disapprovingly. Gokudera tipped the cup to examine the dregs and saw dark green powder in light green liquid.

"Shit. No wonder then. I think I bought coffee. You know where it is?"

It took a long moment of meeting Hibari's dark gray eyes before Hibari moved his head a fraction and Gokudera realised he'd just asked Hibari to go out of his way to make a cup of coffee. Luckily it seemed the other man was in a vaguely good mood. Probably from some sort of sadistic glee derived from giving people unpleasant wake up calls. It likely wouldn't last for long anyway. What a wonderful start to the morning.

"Oh hell," Gokudera muttered, letting his forehead fall to the counter. "I can get it." He took a deep breath and was about to push himself to his feet when Hibari's low voice interrupted him.

"Where?"

"What?" Gokudera asked more as a reflex than a genuine question. "Oh. Up there, in the overhead cupboard."

Hibari made a low sound of acknowledgement and opened the cupboard Gokudera had gestured at.

"The sugar too, please," Gokudera said, even as he wondered if that was pushing the other too far. Hibari, in a strangely magnanimous gesture, placed the box of sugar cubes in front of Gokudera without any fuss. The dark haired man then deftly made the coffee, though it wasn't difficult per se. Gokudera bought instant for a reason, and that reason was because he could still stumble through the motions of stirring water and powder together even after he was half-delirious from staying awake for fifty-plus hours. Heck, even  _Lambo_ could make him coffee, not that he'd actually trust the kid anywhere near that much caffeine.

"Thank you," Gokudera said as Hibari set the cup before him. He threw in three cubes, stirred, then added one more for good measure. Hibari confiscated the box of sugar before Gokudera could contemplate adding another. He sipped cautiously, and found the sweetness was just short of how he normally took his coffee. Oh well.

"What do you think of the mission?" Gokudera opened the conversation.

" _Costeggiare_ does contraband, smuggling and intimidation along the port. Management is being overhauled due to internal strife. Profile the new ones under pretences of negotiation, break the monopoly of the coast," Hibari summarised neatly.

"Break the… that wasn't in the assignment," Gokudera commented.

"It will get better results."

"You think you can?" Gokudera raised his eyebrow as he helped himself to the bread on the table. Hibari gave him a plate and Gokudera nodded in acknowledgement.

"I could have done this alone," Hibari replied smoothly, pride thinly concealed in the lift of his head.

"No, you couldn't have," Gokudera said, matter-of-factly. "Not that it's anything to do with you," he continued as Hibari's gaze turned into a mild glower. " _Costeggiare_ has been strange lately. They wouldn't have listened to you if you were alone."

Hibari looked like he had something to say to that, something backed up with the steel of his tonfa, but Gokudera wasn't in the mood to be a punching bag.

"Hear me out," Gokudera said pre-emptively, holding up a hand. It worked, Hibari settled back, though the way his eyes glinted promised a first-hand experience of the Napoli healthcare system if Gokudera did not explain himself satisfactorily. And soon.

"I know you're used to dangerous politicking, but this mission is different.  _Costeggiare_ isn't just powerful for their dealings or monopoly. They are an old family, and old families tend to have many favours to collect on. This is also _Chiavarone_ territory, and there is bad blood between them. The situation is delicate. It wouldn't be too much if the Tenth came all the way for this negotiation, but we're in the middle of negotiations with the  _yakuza_  back home, so it's me and you."

"Chiavarone is working with us," Hibari said, somewhere between a question and a statement. Gokudera blinked and took a moment to realise that Hibari was talking about Dino and not the whole family.

"Well, yeah, it's not polite to leave him out when we're operating from his territory. Anything we gain from this mission will be most likely be entrusted to him, with an annual contribution to us."

Hibari made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat and Gokudera took that as a sign to continue.

"Anyway, families outside our alliance don't know how  _Vongola's_  structure works. It's a risk for them to deal with you alone; they don't know where you stand in internal power divisions. Then, there's the matter of rank; they'll probably see you as a captain or thereabouts. Sending you to negotiate on your own is blatant disrespect. That's why we're sending the third highest ranking boss in the alliance, the highest ranking right hand, and a 'captain' from the highest ranking family in the alliance."

Gokudera prayed that the message ' _we're not screwing around just to mess with your ego, this is actually a pretty big deal'_  would get through. There was a long moment of silence before Hibari seemed to accept Gokudera's reasoning, albeit reluctantly, frowning slightly as he turned his eyes upon his own steaming cup of tea. Gokudera counted it as a victory and finished his coffee.

"The aliases are just in case, for the information gathering part of the mission," Gokudera added. Hibari glared at him, obviously resenting being told how to do his job. Perhaps Gokudera should have quit while he was ahead. "I know you know, I'm just saying."

"Anything else?" Hibari prompted lowly. Gokudera bit down the urge to reply with something equally childish or sarcastic and turned his mind back to the mission.

"We broker a trade. The list of what we can offer is in the file, though word is  _Costeggiare_ is looking to acquire weaponry. I say let them think they've come out top on the deal. Let them think we are the young, arrogant ones. Let them make mistakes, and we'll have favours from them."

"You want to turn them," Hibari observed.

"I don't know yet, it depends if they're worth turning."

Hibari nodded once, shallowly.

"The rising management will need results to be accepted into power," he commented. "Our deal will be advantageous for them."

"What if they don't take it?" Gokudera asked, wanting to see if Hibari had a Plan B.

"We play the other side, crush the challengers, and gain favour from  _them_ instead."

"And if they are united?"

"Men have vices," Hibari said, disdain curling the corner of his mouth. "Especially Western men."

"Let's say they don't," Gokudera refrained from calling Hibari out on his racism in favour of continuing the line of Socratic questioning. In answering, Hibari's voice was dark, and his statement simple.

"Then we make them."

Gokudera started, head coming up to meet Hibari's eyes. He had thought of that. It was his job to. To think the worst of everyone, and to sink lower still, to play dirty and hard and heartless. To have contingencies for contingencies and every underhanded scheme possible up his sleeve, ready to be played at the right time, at the right moment, to get his way.

Gokudera had been prepared to do what had needed to be done. He was surprised Hibari had been too.

"Objections?" Hibari asked with a hint of challenge as the silence stretched. Gokudera breathed out slowly, shaking his head.

"None. That's actually pretty fucking brilliant… if we can pull it off."

Hibari's split-second grin was absolutely feral.

-/\\-

The trick with aliases, surprisingly, was not to change too much.

Gale Marino was very much Gokudera; the quiet, very academic man he might have been if his background were not old mafia blood. He kept to himself, worked hard and found things to do and learn during the holidays or near died of boredom. Like Gokudera, Gale would have excelled in school. Unlike Gokudera, he didn't have the Tenth or the _Vongola_  and eventually Gale would have the difficult choice of arts or sciences. He graduated with freelance journalism and plenty of dabbling. His second favourite thing was looking at the stars. His first favourite was wondering what lay beyond them.

If Gale were another person, Gokudera would have liked him. Unfortunately, Gale did not share Gokudera's love of loud printed T-shirts and metal-studded belts. That meant shopping. Gokudera was dreading it. As with most things, the practise of being another person was a very different game from theory.

"Ready to go?" Gokudera asked. He blended a trace of the soft melody Irie had picked up from his time in the UK with Mukuro's best 'I am innocent and maybe lost and confused' vocal register. Hibari's head turned a fraction, sharply. He glared at Gokudera for a stretch, and Gokudera tried to force himself to smile back.

"Where?" Hibari asked in return, distaste for the manner of speech obvious.

"Department store, to build the persona," Gokudera replied, returning to his usual brusque clip. He paused, then decided he couldn't be bothered to try the voice again. "Who are you using anyway?"

"Kaoru," Hibari said. The name was vaguely familiar.

"Family name?" Gokudera prompted.

"Takahashi."

"Ah," Gokudera said, reluctant to admit that he couldn't remember. Hibari was in the field so often that it was perfectly fair for Gokudera to forget. He committed the name to memory to look up in the files later. The storm guardian returned to the task at hand.

"So. Coming with me to get disguises or what?"

"Disguises," Hibari repeated, raising an eyebrow. Gokudera resisted the urge to ask if Hibari was going deaf.

"You should," Gokudera said. "I didn't see anything different from what 'Hibari Kyouya' would wear in your luggage."

Silence. Gokudera couldn't for the life of him figure out what Hibari was thinking.

"You could get to know my persona at least. And it'd help to have a second opinion from someone used to field work," Gokudera added. "In fact, our best disguise is probably the fact we're even walking together. I'm not associated with you, and you're associated with well … being a crowd conscious bastard, so you should come along."

After a moment, Hibari put aside his file and stood. Hurrah for logic and reasoning.

"Need a moment to get ready?" Gokudera asked, in Gale's voice, a considerate question. Hibari frowned and used a hand to ruffle his own hair. He headed for the door.

"You still look the same," Gokudera felt the need to point out.

"Ah, is that so, Marino-san?" the dark haired man asked and Gokudera started. Hibari's—was that really the same person?—voice was still deep, but now it was open at the ends, honest, and above all, likable. The sort of person you automatically categorise as trustworthy and dependable, someone you'd like to make friends with.

"How?" Gokudera demanded. "How do you do that?" The man's shoulders softened in an almost-shrug, then returned to strong lines.

"Practise," Hibari pronounced confidently, with a touch of amusement. His expression was easy, comfortable. A far cry from blade-silver stares and perpetual guard. Gokudera struggled to find words for a moment. Something between 'how do I do that' and 'that's unfair' fought for first right to be said.

"Dammit," Gokudera said, shaking his head. "Fine. Let's go."

"Ah, it couldn't be… that you're  _jealous_ , Marino-san," Hibari said over his shoulder. Gokudera scowled.

"That's Yamamoto, isn't it?" Gokudera asked without waiting for an answer. "You modelled this alias off the baseball freak."

"Not only," and Hibari's features became serious. Not dark focus, but dutiful determination. Like a knight, or a prince of a kingdom that no longer existed, Gokudera thought before he caught himself. Dammit, he had to stop letting the stupid woman recommend him fantasy RPG games, it was affecting his work.

They walked to the bus stop, and Hibari stood nearer than usual. Gokudera was sorely tempted to comment that people might actually think Hibari knew him, standing less than six feet away. The cloud guardian always kept his distance, even at little gatherings when it was just family. He only came within six feet of two people: the Tenth and Chrome. Most of the time, he was across the room in a corner, or off by himself, at the kind of distance people have to raise voices for.

Somehow, pointing that out seemed inappropriate. Gokudera bit his tongue and steadfastly looked away, at the grocery store across the street, and waited for the bus. They didn't wait long, and the bus they got on was almost empty. Gokudera tried to pick apart 'Kaoru' the whole way to the department store and with great reluctance had to admit that he was impressed.

Hibari had stretched and looked at the ceiling of the bus in a way that was distinctly un-Hibari, exposing throat and chest and stomach for a long moment. He spoke carelessly, flitting between frivolous topics, like music or games or neighbours. Gokudera never thought that Hibari would have invented a whole street of people just to support one alias. He would have to ask, later, when they got back.

"Where did you go to school?" Gokudera asked as they meandered through the shopping mall. It was bright, but still before the lunch crowd.

"So, even the honour student forgets things sometimes," Hibari directed sideways, walking in step with him. Gokudera crossed his arms, and it felt unnatural, tangled up and disadvantageous if an enemy suddenly appeared.

"The honour student had better things to think about," Gokudera replied. Hibari hummed noncommittally.

"Tokyo U, political science. Before that, Kamata High, where we met."

"Right, I remember now," Gokudera said. Hibari scoffed, not unkindly.

"Took you two years to remember my name."

"There were too many 'Takahashi's in our year," Gokudera said defensively, making things up on the fly. Hibari's answering smile made him want to shudder.

"What have you been doing recently?" Hibari asked, changing the subject. "Since we graduated."

"Nothing much," Gokudera replied, thinking fast. His answer came out a bit clipped. "Working."

"Ah. What work?"

"Journalism. You?"

"I visited Brussels with a friend, worked as a policeman back home for a while, then… you know."

Obviously, Gokudera didn't know, and damn if he wasn't dying to ask. He briefly wondered if Hibari was doing this on purpose. Gokudera was definitely looking up that the Brussels file the second they got home.

They wandered into H&M, and without thinking, Gokudera unfolded one of the T-shirt on sale to have a better look. It was black with a silver skull laid over a chaotic burst on the shoulder. And it was on sale. Hibari was standing off to the side, one eye brow raised and his mouth pulling up at one corner.

"That does not suit you, Marino-san," Hibari said and it was just so easy to fall into being Gale.

"Friends for seven years now, and you still call me by my last name, Kaoru? I'm wounded," Gokudera replied dryly, and Hibari's eyes sharpened a bit in warning. His response as Kaoru was seamless.

"Sarcasm,  _Gale_. Sarcasm. Perhaps you've heard of it."

"Funny," Gokudera said, but he put the T-shirt back. Hibari meandered towards a shelf of cardigans.

"You had one like this," Hibari said, turning to Gokudera as he pointed to a beige and caramel button up. It looked boring and Gokudera struggled not to make a face. Hibari's choice was practically Namimori yellow.

"Indeed I did," Gokudera said dryly. It was almost true; he'd had the Namimori blazer. "Doesn't mean I  _liked_  it."

"It's a good colour," Hibari said, with a swift-second glare that challenged Gokudera to say otherwise despite the easygoing tone of voice.

"Never seen  _you_ wear it," Gokudera retorted, but he grabbed two cardigans in the same style, one grey and black, one maroon and grey. Feeling whimsical, Gokudera grabbed a very emasculating aqua and beige one and tossed it at Hibari, who caught it easily.

"We could match," Gokudera snickered. The beige looked awful anywhere near Hibari's skin.

"That's terrible," Hibari answered as he put it back.

"Seriously though, you should get something. The sale ends soon," Gokudera said, hoping Hibari would get the hint.

"I don't need anything," Hibari answered stubbornly.

"I didn't see a single set of casual clothing in your suitcase!"

"Perhaps because I didn't bring any."

"Exactly."

"I do not see how that is a problem," Hibari said, slipping back very slightly to Hibari, a warning to let the issue go.

"Kaoru-kun needs clothes," Gokudera pressed. If Hibari was going to be stubborn and not choose, then he'd have to live with whatever Gokudera picked. A deep teal, ribbed turtleneck joined the contents of the basket.

-/\\-

The moment they stepped through the door of apartment 4A, Hibari's precise posture and razor edges were back. The sudden spike of hostility made Gokudera turn, half concerned, half ready to fight.

"Don't touch me, herbivore," Hibari snapped before Gokudera could speak, and it was all Hibari again, without a doubt.

"I was just—"

"Do not  _crowd_ me," the dark haired man's voice was a low, almost monotone order. Vicious undercurrents rippled the surface of the naturally controlled voice. After spending the day getting used to the easy, comfortable persona of a long-time friend, Gokudera took a moment to readjust.

"Don't want to, bastard," Gokudera shot back. He would have flipped the other man off if his hands weren't full.

Hibari disappeared into the room, and the door swung shut. Gokudera chucked the shopping on the floor and flopped onto the sofa. Trying to be someone else was tiring. He hadn't realised that he'd been so on edge until they'd gotten back. Maybe that's what had Hibari so worked up.

Sighing, Gokudera dragged his briefcase closer and pulled out his laptop. He sent some emails, read a couple of reports and pulled out the Brussels mission Hibari was in a couple of years ago. It had been medium length. Hibari had done the groundwork then passed it over to Mukuro and Irie for surveillance set up. 'Takahashi Kaoru' then returned to Japan, where he joined the police force. Gokudera found that hilarious.

Then… indefinite suspension for insubordination. Gokudera frowned as he read that again. Kaoru had punched his superior and gone against orders in pursuing a suspect. The conviction was successful, the man had been guilty of murder and theft, but Kaoru was politely asked to leave.

"I can make Gale the concerned friend type," Gokudera murmured to himself, sipping his fourth coffee of the day. Another virtue of instant was that he had fresh coffee whenever he wanted, in whatever amount he wanted. It didn't seem like a big deal but only people who have never worked forty-eight hours straight would underestimate the virtues of exactly half a cup of hot coffee.

"Concerned friend," Gokudera mused, turning the idea over his tongue and in his mind. It could work, but Gokudera wasn't sure what exactly a concerned friend  _did._ The image in his mind swung between two extremes. There was the Yamamoto or Ryohei type, who would drag people to 'fun' activities until the friend in question became too exasperated to mope. Then there was the Tenth, who knew all the right things to say or do at the right time. Gokudera wanted to emulate the Tenth through Gale, but he wasn't sure he could.

Hibari reappeared, hair slightly damp and sleeves rolled up. He walked past Gokudera to the kitchen as if the silver haired man wasn't there. Gokudera looked up.

"What should I do to improve Gale?" he asked. For a moment, he didn't think that Hibari was going to reply, or even heard him. The dark haired man continued doing who knew what in the kitchen, Gokudera couldn't see past the high counter without sitting up properly, which he didn't feel like doing.

"Change hair colour," Hibari replied, as the regular chopping of something on a cutting board started up. Gokudera rolled his eyes, even though he knew Hibari couldn't see him.

"Besides that," Gokudera said. Why Hibari would pick on that he didn't know. The dark haired man had been there as Gokudera bought light brown hair dye earlier today.

"Character," Hibari said, clearly uninterested. Gokudera grit his teeth and took a breath. Shouting at Hibari was not going to help, he told himself. It might be therapeutic though, Gokudera's mind added helpfully.

His phone rang, interrupting him. His family work phone. Gokudera immediately sat up and took the call.

"What is it?" he asked briskly, businesslike. In the corner of his eye, he saw Hibari glance towards him for a moment.

"Gokudera-san? I got through immigration…"

Gokudera relaxed. It wasn't an emergency.

"Chrome," he greeted back. "I'm glad to hear that. Is there a problem?"

An unusually loud sound of knife meeting board. Gokudera glanced at Hibari. The man's eyes were narrowed suspiciously before he turned and there was a fierce hiss of water and oil. Gokudera raised an eyebrow at Hibari's back.

"Ah, yes," the female guardian said. "I called because I cannot reach the contact."

Gokudera held the phone to his ear and pulled up the mission file on his laptop. A notification from Irie flashed in the corner of his screen and Gokudera opened that too. It had been a program the genius had made especially for the top _Vongola_  members. Gokudera had not fully understood the explanation, but it was a secure form of communication.

**Need any support? I can fly through Italy on the way back. —51**

Gokudera considered Irie's offer for a moment, casting a glance at Hibari. His mission partner seemed rather adverse to technology, and Gokudera was fine for now. Hibari lifted the board and swept the contents into a pot, head lifting to catch Gokudera staring. Gokudera turned back to his laptop.

**Should be ok. –59**

"Your contact's name is Suu?" Gokudera asked Chrome once he had replied to Irie. He pulled up his email and searched for any new updates.

"Yes, but no one I think could be her has approached me, and it's quite far past the meeting time." Chrome's soft voice sounded concerned. Gokudera thought that was fair, since contacts were usually very prompt. A new message flashed in the corner of Gokudera's screen.

**2 is waiting for instructions from you. Something about catering? –51**

Gokudera cursed at the reminder. Fuuta was running Gokudera's errands while the storm guardian was on this mission. Gokudera had given the kid a head's up about the caterers and last minute delivery problems that were a combination of the main house's location and security protocol. The slightly absent-minded brunette had merely smiled and said that the catering company he had in mind was supposed to be second best in the whole of Japan for roasted turkey.

"That stupid—" Gokudera bit out, before remembering he was on the line.

"Gokudera-san?" Chrome said with urgency. "Is the mission compromised?"

"Sorry, not you. Give me a moment," Gokudera told her, shifting the phone to his other ear. He glanced towards the kitchen, where Hibari seemed to have finished cooking. In fact, the man was staring. Gokudera took that as a signal to get to the table and look for dinner. Coffee could only put off hunger pangs for so long, after all. He grabbed his laptop and a couple of papers and quickly relocated.

"Are you able to contact any others?" Gokudera asked Chrome as he settled into one of the high chairs at the counter. There were no updates from Chrome's primary contact, or any notifications from any others in the region.

"Second and third did not answer either," Chrome said, proving that she hadn't called him straight away. Gokudera frowned, not liking what that information implied. Having all contacts drop suddenly like that meant nothing good.

"I'll get a techie to run a check for you," Gokudera told her.

"Thank you," Chrome said, polite as ever. Gokudera lowered the phone to the table for a moment, freeing his hands to type faster.

**May have work for you after all, glasses. 96 is having problems reaching contacts. Is it a network problem? –59**

Irie's reply was almost instantaneous, a testament to the IT specialist's touch-typing skill.

**I rather despise that nickname and I wish you'd stop calling me that. I'll run a check now. –51**

A plate with a neat fillet of red snapper perched on a bed of leek was placed in front of Gokudera. He glanced up long enough to direct thanks at Hibari and shifted the plate so it wouldn't get in the way. A bowl of rice and a bowl of miso soup joined the plate. Hibari set his own food on the narrow counter, diagonally opposite from Gokudera. Gokudera grabbed his phone from the counter to get it out of the way.

"Hang on," Gokudera told Chrome before setting his phone down again. He started on an email to Fuuta, demanding an update, and the contact details of the catering company.

" _Itadakimasu_ ," Hibari said quietly before starting to eat. He apparently had decided to stand and eat from the other side of the counter rather than walking round and taking one of the two remaining chairs on Gokudera's side.

Gokudera shrugged and tapped 'send'. He was about to start on his own portion when another message from Irie popped up. Gokudera put his chopsticks back down to see what the redhead had to say.

**Got it. Security program wouldn't give local numbers access through the network. Should be okay now. –51**

**Thanks. Stand by just in case. –59**

**Sure thing. –51**

He picked up his phone again. "Chrome, are you still there?"

"Yes," she replied quietly.

"Try calling your secondary contact again," Gokudera said. "If it doesn't work, call me back."

"Thank you Gokudera-san," Chrome replied. The line disconnected and Gokudera put his phone on the table, rolling his shoulders. Then he paused as he remembered he'd forgotten to tell her what to do if calling her contact did work. He opened a new window on his laptop and sent a quick message.

**Message me if you can reach your contact. –59**

**Thank you, 59-san. I will. –96**

Sighing as he set his laptop to the side somewhat, Gokudera picked up his chopsticks again. He tried some of the fish and glanced back down at the plate. It was surprisingly good.

"Not bad," Gokudera complemented, pulling the plate closer.

"Is that so."

Gokudera's head jerked up at the loaded tone. Hibari was seething; aggression tightly reigned away from his expression. The lines of his hand and chopsticks seemed too purposeful for someone simply eating dinner. Gokudera instinctively knew that he was one wrong move from being 'bitten to death'.

"Alright, it's good," Gokudera admitted, confused by Hibari obviously overreacting. Hibari observed him for a moment, and Gokudera wondered what the hell he said wrong.

"Kitchen is mine," Hibari concluded at length.

"What? You can't just decide that!" Gokudera protested. Hibari didn't bother to reply, finishing his food with a perfectly impassive expression. Gokudera took a breath.

"Why?" Gokudera asked reasonably.

"I'm not eating your poison," Hibari said, matching Gokudera's tone.

" _Poison_?" Gokudera spluttered. Hibari set his bowl down neatly.

"You have complaints?" Hibari asked evenly and oh so dangerously. Clenching his hand into a fist around his chopsticks, Gokudera told himself not to start a fight at the dinner table with Hibari of all people. He was sorely tempted to say yes and purposely find fault with the food, but a notification flashed in the corner of his screen. With deliberate patience, Gokudera set his chopsticks down and checked Chrome's message, purposely taking his time.

**Secondary contact has arrived. Thank you, 59-san. –96**

**No problem. Take care. –59**

The short interval had diffused the tension slightly. Hibari's speed was not just a fighting skill it seemed. He had already taken care of his own dishes, which were drying on the rack. Gokudera felt like arguing just for the principle of not letting Hibari get his way all the time, but decided to give up trying to figure out what the man was thinking.

"Just cook something other than Japanese once in a while and we're good," Gokudera replied just as evenly. Hibari gave a superior look and walked away with all the grace of an indignant leopard. Internally, Gokudera shrugged. If Hibari wanted to do the chores, let him. It made life that much easier.

Hibari disappeared behind the bedroom door and Gokudera went back to dinner and work.

**Tenth, I apologise in advance for any inconvenience related to the Christmas catering. I'm doing damage control now. I'll try to have today's summarised report in by 2am. –59**

**I'm cancelling the profiterole tower order. The stupid cow doesn't need the sugar. –59**

**Also, your cloud guardian's a bitch. –59**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting early before I forget lol so ya merry christmas!


	4. Chiavarone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Off-screen violence and abduction.

 

24 Dec

Christmas Eve started well, notwithstanding the crick in Gokudera's neck from being too tall for the sofa he was sleeping on. Then again, that could have just been a natural consequence of his bad posture while working on his laptop.

He killed his phone alarm and got up to make himself a cup of coffee. They were visiting Dino today, and Gokudera was admittedly apprehensive about it. The man was a protégé of Reborn, was significantly older than Gokudera himself, and was just a little too cool to be for real. Tenth held him in esteem for reasons Gokudera could only guess at, especially after seeing the blonde boss trip over his own feet, or manage to put food everywhere but his own mouth. Dino was annoying, and Gokudera wished he could somehow garner as much respect from the Tenth as the mostly-ditzy, only occasionally competent Italian did.

"There will be transport under the bridge five blocks away at 0900," Hibari said. Gokudera looked over his shoulder to see the dark-haired man standing in the bedroom doorway. Hibari tilted his head, observing Gokudera for a moment. The sun streaming in from the glass balcony doors hit Gokudera's newly dyed hair, making it glow honey brown-blonde. The storm guardian tugged on a lock experimentally. In angled sunlight, the colour was just on this side of 'brunette', rather than 'blonde'. Gokudera hoped it was just a trick of the light. The shade was not exactly nondescript in a town where most young men had dark hair. It had looked darker on the packaging, and darker still under indoor lighting when Gokudera had dyed it in the dead of the night.

"Be ready to leave soon," Hibari said after a pause.

"No comments?" Gokudera asked. Hibari raised an eyebrow slightly.

"It will do," he replied neutrally. Gokudera resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Well, he got what he was asking for, trying to get an opinion from Hibari on aesthetics.

"Wait," Gokudera called as Hibari made to return to the room. His fellow guardian looked at him expectantly. "We go as Gale and Kaoru?"

"Yes," Hibari answered flatly, as if Gokudera had asked whether blue and yellow made green. Gokudera took a moment to remind himself to be the better man in the room and not reply in kind.

"In that case," Gokudera said, as pleasantly as he could. "You can wear one of these." He tossed Hibari the shopping bag of clothes he had picked out for the Japanese man's cover the day before.

Hibari's face as he pulled out the teal turtleneck was one of polite and utterly damning judgement.

"Happy early Christmas," Gokudera told him, feeling a smile threatening to break out. Hibari looked frozen in place for a moment before nodding slightly.

"Thank you," he replied stiffly before stepping into the bedroom and closing the door behind him. Gokudera hid a grin behind his coffee cup.

-/\\-

Their black-windowed transport, courtesy of the  _Chiavarone_  family, was driven by someone with squinty eyes and short, spiky hair. Gokudera thought he might have met the driver before; Hibari didn't seem to care. The man said his name was 'Bono', and seemed familiar enough with Hibari to raise an eyebrow at the teal the dark haired man was sporting. Gokudera didn't like that. The fact that another family, allied or not, had so much data on a top ranking member of  _Vongola_  made him uncomfortable.

"The Boss might be a little late," Bono informed them. "He said you could wait at the usual place."

"Usual place?" Gokudera repeated.

"Boss said that Hibari-san would know."

Gokudera glanced sideways at the dark haired man, who was leaning against the tinted window with his eyes closed.

"Hn," Hibari acknowledged, and the rest of the ride was silent.

The  _Chiavarone_ family might have been on the brink of bankruptcy a few short years ago, but that had no bearing whatsoever on the grand house that had been passed down through the generations. Expansive yellow courtyards separated the several wings of classic white-walled five-storey architecture. Bono dropped them off at the main door, more or less leaving them to their own devices. Gokudera stared in thinly-masked disbelief as the sedan pulled away, unsure whether this was a show of trust or bald-faced disregard.

Hibari obviously did not have the same doubts. He walked in with the casual contempt that could only be bred from long familiarity. The modestly furnished halls were mostly empty and Gokudera was glad that no one was there to see him force a bored look and follow Hibari's purposeful stride. God knew Hibari had never been one to concern himself with petty things like giving the Boss or his right hand man due respect. Unfortunately though, Hibari knew where he was going and Gokudera did not, and even if he hated being one step behind, he couldn't do anything about it.

"Where are we going?" Gokudera asked lowly, when the corridors felt just a little too quiet. Hibari glanced at him.

"Piano room," Hibari answered succinctly as ever. His answer threw Gokudera.

"Piano room?" Gokudera repeated, in case he had heard wrongly.

"Mm."

"I didn't know you played," Gokudera commented with genuine interest. Hibari made a small shrug, but did not reply.

"Do we have time before he gets here?" Gokudera asked.

"Chiavarone is usually late."

"Alright. You can play first," Gokudera said generously. He played often enough in front of the guardians, at parties and so on. During those moments, Hibari was usually as far away from the spotlight, and the piano, as possible. If the dark haired man had ever played at other times, Gokudera had never been around to hear it.

Instead of responding, Hibari opened a set of double doors to a well lit room that was all pale gold wallpaper and rich russet carpeting. It was a decent sized room, taken up mostly by a single grand piano, which was lacquered wood rather than the glossy black Gokudera was so used to. Ledges that served as seats were built into the walls beneath the windows.

"Nice," Gokudera said, walking round the piano, dragging a hand across its surface. He lifted the fall to expose the keys as he walked past and propped up the lid.

"Can you play something?" Gokudera asked, staring into the inner workings of the piano. "Anything will do. I'd like to have a look." Grand pianos had always fascinated him. He loved that he could open its glossy shell and watch its heart pour out chaotic brilliance that reverberated in his fingertips. His only regret was that he couldn't both play and watch the piano work at the same time. He sometimes wondered.

Hibari didn't move and Gokudera looked up at him.

"What's wrong?" Gokudera directed at him. "Play anything, really. I don't actually have preferences. Maybe Rachmaninov or something?"

Hibari sat down and with a slight pause, placed his hands on the keys. He started on a Chinese piece that Gokudera took a while to recognise. It started light and fast, deepened at moments before trilling and dancing. The inside of the piano was a flurry of movement and eventually a name came to Gokudera. 'Sunflower'.

It was a difficult piece—technical and light-handed in some parts, loud and sweeping in others. If Gokudera was honest, Hibari was not  _bad._ All the notes were struck on time, neither too loud nor too soft. It was perfectly per the score and maddening in its soullessness. Finally, it was too much and Gokudera cleared his throat, gently reaching a hand over the keys as Hibari came to the end of a bar.

"Here, I'll play," Gokudera said, but the way one errant note followed told him he had done something wrong. Hibari glared at him before pushing away and standing. Damage-control mode kicked in before Gokudera could think through his words.

"I didn't mean that you weren't good," Gokudera tried to explain but Hibari didn't seem to hear him. "I just felt…"

Hibari walked away and nothing Gokudera could say would matter. He sat on the ledge by the window with his back to Gokudera and pointedly looked out towards the gate. Gokudera stared for a while, taking half a step towards the raven-haired man before turning and taking a seat at the piano.

His fingers rested on the unfamiliar keys for a moment, learning their spacing and weight. Gokudera played one set of scales before starting consciously, almost apologetically, on a piece by Wang Luobin. The notes were gentle and floaty, painting ancient oriental palaces in the noonday light that cut in through the breezy day curtains. They inundated the high-strung silence, and Gokudera felt tension drop from his arms and shoulders. The music birthed itself as it always did when he let the pads of his fingers touch the glossy keys. He only half-knew what he was doing as the notes ran ahead of even his own thoughts. It might have been Debussy, heavily improvised to jazz. It might have been Bach pushed to the edge of 1920s swing. It might have been that catchy Korean pop that had been playing a lot on the radio.

Whatever it was, it was fun. It was different from playing in a crowded ballroom, where he had his back open to the heads of other families, or when the other guardians were trying to get him to stop and chug scotch from a bottle during Christmas. It was just Hibari, who might as well be a piece of furniture for all he acknowledged Gokudera's existence, and a piano room.

Gokudera started on Christmas carols just because he could. God bless ye angels we have heard away in a manger in Bethlehem. He blended and mixed them, because playing from scores, even ones in his head, seemed stiff. What child is this, dreaming of a white Christmas, following yonder star?

This would be the first Christmas in seven years where he wouldn't be playing for the Tenth. That thought made his fingertips a bit colder, despite the indoor heating.

The room's double doors burst open and Gokudera's fingers stumbled, coming to a dead stop.

"Kyouya!" Dino proclaimed jubilantly. "Long time no see!"

Gokudera cleared his throat and Dino caught his eye. The blonde's wild, easy posture sharpened immediately, shoulders going back and head lifting to match. In a second the man's countenance smoothened into something more befitting a mafia don.

"Business with me, Smoking Bomb?" Dino asked.

"Yes," Gokudera replied, voice clipped with resentment at how the older man led the conversation so easily. Rank-wise they were about equal, but Dino never really listened to Gokudera the way he ought. Gokudera's hands were like ice as he placed the felt over the keys and lowered the fall.

"Romario's preparing the materials in the library. He'll be bringing them to my office," Dino said, glancing at Hibari, who still had not moved from the window ledge. "Are you sulking, Kyouya?" the blonde teased, though not as casually as when he had entered the room.

"No." Hibari's voice suggested broken bones and damaged property, but Dino only laughed. The cloud guardian stood gracefully and walked out, the perfect portrait of wounded pride. Dino turned back to Gokudera, smiling like he didn't know better.

"Well, let's go then," Dino said cheerfully. "While the sun shines and all that." It was a very poorly disguised order. Gokudera felt his shoulders tense, and the urge to protest, but this was the  _Chiavarone_  house. With no alternative, Gokudera stood and walked with the blonde.

"Thank you for your assistance for this mission," Gokudera said for the sake of nicety.  _Chiavarone_ 's choices when _Vongola_ had asked for assistance were 'yes' or 'yes, gladly'. Dino's slightly raised eyebrow told Gokudera that the don had been aware of it as well.

"It's my pleasure," Dino replied, the words an empty response to Gokudera's shallow appreciation. "Although Kyouya's email had me under the impression that he'd be working this one alone."

"Change of plans," Gokudera shrugged. Dino nodded once.

"Happens all the time," the allied boss smiled in a way that was supposed to be comforting but had Gokudera's guard up as high as it could go. "Well, better you than Mukuro, I guess."

There it was again, undue familiarity with the workings of  _Vongola_. Gokudera gritted his teeth into a semblance of a smile.

"Can't say that for certain yet," Gokudera replied with dry humour. Dino laughed so sincerely that Gokudera wanted to blow something up.

"I think you underestimate how much Kyouya resents that guy," Dino said, shaking his head. "It's a miracle they haven't killed each other by now."

"You exaggerate," Gokudera said shortly. "They're fine."

"If you say so," Dino conceded easily. "Well, here's my office."

It was laid out much like the Tenth's office, with a grand desk and a high-backed chair facing the door. Shelves lined one side and a sofa set was arranged on the other side of the room. A Japanese-looking man with a moustache and slightly greying hair was speaking to Hibari. Both of them were holding portfolios with the  _Chiavarone_  crest, identical to the two remaining portfolios on the low table amongst the sofa seats.

"Welcome," Romario said, breaking from his conversation with the other  _Vongola_  guardian. "The portfolios were compiled as per orders, boss," he directed at Dino. The boss nodded and took a seat, gesturing for the others to join him.

"We've done the minor groundwork as requested," Dino said as he gestured for Gokudera to help himself to a folder. Dino opened the remaining portfolio to show them a distinguished old man, with heavy brows and hefty jowls, sunken features fixing a glare at the camera. The creases in face might as well have been scars.

"Marzio Mari," Dino said. "Better known as Old Man Mari, the current  _Costeggiare_  don. He's the last remnant of _Costeggiare_ 's golden age and one of the wiliest old bastards I've ever had to deal with. He's stepping down earlier than expected. Word on the street is that he wants to see in the new generation. Give a little guidance here and there."

He laid another photo on the table. It had obviously been taken from a distance, with blurry traffic obscuring half the photo, but it was otherwise a clear shot of two men leaving a bar. The smaller man walking in front was in his mid-fifties, grey streaking his brown hair and the beginnings of a pot belly showing through a well-cut suit. The other was in his late thirties, tall but stocky with dirty blonde hair brushing past his eyebrows.

"The one behind is Peppe Mari," Dino told them, not hiding the condescension in his voice at the name. "Old Man Mari's only son. Dario Azzarà—Old Man Mari's right hand—has been on babysitting duty since the announcement. He is the one in front."

Dino took a second, fingers drumming on the edge of the table before reaching to spin the photo to face himself. He tapped Peppe's image twice, sharply, in the middle of the forehead. Death ghosted a paper-thin dimension from Dino's hand. Gokudera's eyes flickered to Hibari, who was burning the photo into memory, gaze not wavering from the A4 sheet. His fellow guardian had missed the look in the  _Chiavarone_  don's eyes.

"Peppe is not special, or popular. He is sometimes brave, sometimes stupid and often both," Dino continued lightly, like he was telling a story to some friends at a bar. "Just the other day, he picked a fight with us on my territory. They've been very careful with the brat since. If you're planning an in with this guy, I'll have to sit out."

"What did you do?" Gokudera asked. Dino smiled a smile that showed all his teeth.

"We only scared him a little. No need to look at me like that, Smoking Bomb. I didn't do anything stupid."

_Mafioso_  often had the habit of exaggerating. Equally often, they were prone to understatement. A bit of a 'scare' was not what someone got for injuring  _Chiavarone_  men. Peppe must have honest-to-God feared for his life after Dino got hold of him. Didn't anything 'stupid'… Dino probably locked Peppe in a car boot long enough for the big boss to hear then returned the boy none the worse for the run-in but scared. Very scared.

"What are you worried about?" Hibari asked, leaning forward, elbows resting lightly on his knees, fingertips barely brushing the low table. Dino inhaled tiredly.

"Ah, you know me too well, Kyouya," Dino said, fondness slipping through his sigh. He touched the top of his folder before he produced one more photo. This man's face was all edges, with a prominent nose and razor cheekbones. White ate the temples of his slicked back hair, which was as black as the suit he wore.

"This is Vico Corvi, the top defence lawyer in the South of Italy. He is also Old Man Mari's advisor, the  _Costeggiare consigliere_. They used to be very close, but Vico had many things to say about Peppe being the next boss. Most of it was not flattering, and he was not the only one. We don't know what he's planning but the disagreement between Old Man and Vico is causing tension all the way down the ranks."

"Oh?" Hibari asked, his voice leading up at the end. Dino shook his head.

"That's all we know for now, sorry to disappoint."

"I see."

"Thank you for the information," Gokudera said, standing. "We'll be in contact."

Dino frowned up at  _Vongola_ 's right hand. He exchanged a look with Romario, who'd been standing silent as a statue by his side the whole time. They came to an understanding without a word exchanged.

"Please, you are welcome to have lunch here," Dino offered to the guardians.

"A lot of work to do," Gokudera politely turned down. Dino wasn't looking at him though. Hibari had risen to his feet as well, taking a folder with him.

"Kyouya?"

"You were late," Hibari said, holding the folder by his side. Dino laughed and stood.

"So nitpicky you are," Dino said. Hibari looked at him flatly.

"You were late," Hibari repeated more forcefully, as if there was more meaning in the same words if said twice.

"Yeah, I know," Dino accepted with an impish grin. "Sorry, okay?" Hibari accepted that with the slightest of nods and he turned to the door.

"Romario, please go ahead first. I'll walk them out," Dino waved to his second-in-command. Romario nodded and began gathering the folders left on the table. With long strides, Dino showed them into the corridor.

"How have you been, my favourite student?" Dino began conversationally. The corridor was technically wide enough for three, but the occasional pillar or furniture piece forced someone to drop behind or walk alone ahead. The  _Chiavarone_  boss reined in his steps to match Hibari's.

"Fine."

"Teal suits you," Dino said without missing a beat. Hibari looked scandalised and Gokudera silently took the compliment as was his due.

"We are undercover," Hibari said, echoing the phrase Gokudera had repeated like a broken record over the last few days. Dino nodded.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Dino offered, posture directing the query to Hibari. Gokudera was about to point that out that  _Vongola_ 's right hand was technically standing over  _this side_ , but Hibari answered first.

"Transport. Something discreet."

Dino laughed, clapping Hibari on the shoulder. "You know my taste alright. I wasn't about to offer you my baby anyway. You don't appreciate her. But I can definitely spare you something."

They went through a couple of doors to a darkened garage, and Dino pulled a set of keys off the wall and tossed them to Hibari. Hibari lifted the keys to the light, smiled and slipped into the darkness.

"What is it?" Gokudera had to ask.

"The Dorsoduro 1200 from Aprilia," Dino answered. "Kyouya was eyeing the last time."

Gokudera frowned. "Isn't the Dorso too tall a bike for Hibari?"

"And heavy, but Kyouya is stubborn," Dino shrugged. He caught Gokudera's eye. "I would offer you something, but my cars are likely marked by  _Costeggiare_. I hardly use the bike, so it should be fine."

"Why get something you don't use?" Gokudera had to ask. Motorbikes weren't terribly expensive, but Dino was not known to waste.

"Just in case." Dino smiled at some inside joke. He opened a metal cabinet and took out two full-face helmets with tinted visors.

In the darkness, Hibari turned the ignition. A sleepy yellow light blinked and the engine grumbled.

"Sounds good, doesn't it?" Dino asked. He reached into the cabinet with one hand and flicked a switch. The garage door started to lift slowly, letting stark daylight hit the  _Chiavrone_  don's personal cars. They were flashy and screamed dirty money in a run-down city where  _mafioso_  ruled. A Lamborghini Aventador LP700-4, a Ferrari 458 Spider, and a McLaren 12C Spider … Gokudera hissed a jealous breath at the supercar line-up.

"Nice," Gokudera admitted unhappily.

"The 458 is my personal favourite," Dino said, with a nod towards the bright red Ferrari in the middle.

Hibari walked the bike out of the garage as soon as the door went up, and got on outside. As expected, the bike was too tall, and he was balancing on the balls of his feet.

"Herbivore," Hibari commented lowly as he accepted a helmet from Dino.

"I told you that you wouldn't like it," Dino grinned. "Tough to handle, isn't it?"

Hibari did not deign to reply, instead putting on his helmet. Gokudera did the same, before internally sighing. This was going to be awkward. Gokudera didn't know Hibari well enough, and as a guy, he wasn't too keen on being so close to another guy. This was Hibari, after all, and if his knees touching Hibari's thighs didn't count as 'crowding', Gokudera didn't know what did.

Still, he gamely climbed on. Being slightly taller than Hibari helped, considering the pillion seat was a bit higher and a lot smaller. Gokudera gripped the back of the seat but the lack of security made him rethink this. Hesitantly, he let go of the seat, and one hand hovered at Hibari's shoulder.

Gokudera wondered whether being 'bitten to death' or having to face the awkwardness of asking for permission would be worse.

There was a pause and Hibari sat back and turned. He lifted his face shield and looked at Gokudera from the corner of his eye.

"Hold on properly," Hibari said, decidedly unimpressed by Gokudera's indecision. "It will be more troublesome if you fall, herbivore."

"You should probably listen," Dino laughed. And so, very reluctantly, Gokudera shifted his hands to Hibari's waist. The layers of fabric collapsed further in than he expected, making Gokudera pause while settling his grip. He had known Hibari was slim but this was bordering on ridiculous. How was it physically possible to send people flying with a body like this?

"Well then, I'll drop by your place tomorrow," Dino said. Hibari gave a nod that knocked Gokudera's helmet a bit before leaning forward and setting off.

The time it took for them to reach the main road was enough for Gokudera to find out why both Dino and Hibari had insisted. If Naples traffic was hell, Hibari driving was a demon.

Hibari drove like he fought, forcing the large bike to weave through dense traffic. Some of the gaps they squeezed through were so risky that Gokudera's slacks brushed a layer of dust off the cars they passed. Turns which took all of Hibari's weight thrown to one side had Gokudera three seconds behind the movement, swearing violently. Red lights and oncoming traffic might as well not have existed.

Hibari was not a bad rider; he was a terrifying one.

Though the gear changes were flawless and the trip was injury-free, Gokudera was excessively relieved to see their flat. Hibari skidded into the driveway sideways, neatly missing the boy and woman standing in the driveway. The boy, tall and broad shouldered, was actually about Gokudera's age, but where the  _Vongola_  storm had confidence this person had the slouch of a university student. He disappeared behind the door real quick as Gokudera swung a leg over the bike.

The lady waited for them, hands on her hips, hair blond and fake as fake could be.

"Who?" Hibari asked lowly, voice muffled through the helmet. Gokudera had already taken off his own. Hibari's hands came up and started to pull the helmet off.

"Landlady," Gokudera answered, matching Hibari's tone. "Looks like she wants to talk."

Hibari's eyes stayed on the landlady for a moment. His lips parted on an intake of breath, but the pause told Gokudera that Hibari had changed his words at the last moment.

"Well then, Gale," he said with a shrug and a quirked mouth. "Do what you have to." He dropped the kickstand into place and dismounted the bike with significantly more grace than Gokudera had. The use of Gokudera's alias was enough to remind him to switch.

Gokudera smiled and clapped Hibari gently on the shoulder. "See you upstairs, Kaoru-kun."

"Sure thing," Hibari replied and took Gokudera's helmet. He even gave a small smile and nod to the landlord on the way up. Gokudera shook his head at the difference as he approached the landlady.

" _Ms. Faraldo_ ," Gokudera started to say in Italian, and the landlady laughed.

"' _Ms. Faraldo' makes me feel like an old lady. Please, call me 'Angel', or at least Luciana. After all, I call you Gale_."

" _Angel_ ," Gokudera repeated after her. She smiled.

" _Is that your flatmate_?" She asked, but continued without waiting for his answer. Gokudera couldn't tear his eyes from her bright red lipstick as she talked in a way that was both theatrical and sincere at the same time. " _Funny, he seems perfectly charming. Did you know that he suddenly took off with my boy's motorcycle yesterday, only to return it to the doorstep and leave the keys at the counter? Scared Michele half to death. Oh, have you met Michele? He was here just a moment ago, but for the first time in his life he said that he wanted to finish his assignments first. That boy. Well, if your friend is good for him, it doesn't matter, I guess_."

" _I'm really sorry about Kaoru, ma'am_ …" Gokudera had no words to describe Hibari, much less explain him. Then he paused. "Wait, ' _good for him'_?" Gokudera echoed. This was the first time he'd ever heard that hijacking someone's motorcycle was good for them.

" _Oh, I meant as friends, of course. I try not to judge but Michele does get a bit too excited about his bike. I thought they could be friends. I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me. It's so obvious you two are together that I just assumed that you were secure_."

" _What!_ " Gokudera gaped. Following Angel's mile a minute Italian was difficult but ' _you two'_  and ' _together_ ' raised a huge red flag.

" _Oh, are you worried about people finding out? Don't worry dear, this is Naples_ ," she patted him comfortingly on the arm and he could only stare at her in growing horror. " _If you mind your own business, other people will mind their own business. I can vouch for it, I'm transsexual and proud and no one cares. Anyway, I figured I'd show a little support, so I gave you guys a discount_."

Angel beamed at him and Gokudera's mind went into overdrive.

So the rent really was too good to be true. Dammit, he'd brushed it off as the recession and exchange rate. This woman was fucking crazy because this was  _Hibari_  she was talking about. Even before that, Gokudera was a true Italian man and he liked the ladies, thank you very much. Still, the rent or his reputation? Well, not really his reputation, but Gale's reputation. Was being polite and quiet and academic more important? Hibari had already so very nearly killed the aliases with his stupid stunt of grabbing the bike even before the mission began. What was best for the mission? Gokudera mind hit a wall and came to a dead stop. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd thanked Angel with Gale's grateful, shy smile and was up three flights of stairs, feeling like he'd been run over by a train then thrown off a cliff.

God he needed a smoke.

-/\\-

Even before he'd started smoking, Gokudera always had a light on him. As a kid, it had been matches, and as a teen, it had been one or two lighters from his collection of Zippos. As he grew older, a pack of cigarettes and the occasional bottle of lighter fluid joined them. When exploring dark alleys in a dangerous city, a light was useful; when explosives were a primary weapon, a light was a necessity. Fire and the 'Smoking Bomb' were long-time associates, but not lovers like a stranger would assume. Gokudera was too cautious to be enamoured and too aware of her dangers to be careless.

Gokudera pulled out a white and black Zippo and a metal cigarette case with the  _Vongola_  crest engraved on both sides in all its glory. It was too heavy for a cigarette case and scratched despite Gokudera's care, but the weight of it calmed him a little. He flipped it open and the left side reflected his face, squeezed by the slight curve of the cover. Inscribed in elegant, looping script was the message 'To Hayato, my right hand man, with confidence. Tsuna.' He must have seen the words a million times. Hell, he could probably reproduce the exact message and typography. When he'd first carefully dissected the red and green paper that wrapped it, and realised what the present was, what it meant, he cried his stupid eyes out in front of everyone. The memory was embarrassing, but incredibly warm.

He took a cigarette and shut the case, setting it gently on the table.

Placing the stick between his teeth, Gokudera flicked his lighter, but no little dancing flame appeared. He swore from habit and reached under the table for his lighter fluid.

Hibari appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. He watched as Gokudera refilled the lighter with steady hands, and placed the bottle back under the table. Hibari's gaze went to the cigarette case on the coffee table between them, and back. Gokudera raised an eyebrow and flicked the lighter again. It worked.

"I do not allow smoking in my house."

Gokudera looked up in surprise before an irrational, indignant fury hit him. Why the hell should Hibari make the rules here? Why the hell should Gokudera listen? Why did all the shit in this mission only fall on him? Why was the world unfair?

He snapped the Zippo shut and tossed it lightly. In one motion, he caught it, opened it, and lit his cig.

"Good thing this isn't your house," came Gokudera's smart-mouth reply. He could  _see_ Hibari's hackles come up at the challenge. Hibari pushed the door open all the way.

"You can kill yourself slowly elsewhere, herbivore," Hibari said low in his chest, a rumbling threat.

"Yeah? Well, you can go fuck yourself 'elsewhere' and I can smoke here," Gokudera snarled right back.

Faster than he could blink, the cigarette was ripped from his teeth and the elegant metal case was gone from the table. Hibari held both the loose stick and the case in his left hand and opened the balcony door. Cold dread dropped suddenly, smothering the anger like a snowdrift. Gokudera surged up from his seat and went for the door. The door slid open and Gokudera's body was so slow, so disconnected from his mind. He managed to stop the door's movement with a hand and blocked Hibari from exiting. Sterling grey eyes narrowed at him.

"Give those back," Gokudera demanded. Hibari glared at him, making no move to obey.

"I  _mean_  it, you sonovabitch," Gokudera said with renewed force, making a snatch for the case. Hibari grabbed his wrist and pulled, making Gokudera stumble forward before another sharp pull slammed him into the bedroom door frame. With his path now clear, Hibari stepped out onto the balcony.

"You bastard, don't you  _dare,"_ Gokudera gasped as his fellow guardian went straight to the railing with his cigarette case. Hibari ignored him and with a look of mild disgust, he dropped the loose stick over the ledge. Gokudera felt his heart drop with it, in growing anxiety concerning what would happen to the case.

"Godssakes, Hibari!" Gokudera shouted, scrambling up, making it to the balcony door but not the man standing beyond it. " _Please!_ "

Hibari calmly raised the case and set it on the ledge. He then turned and walked back into the apartment without even turning to look at Gokudera. Confused and reeling with the shot of anger and adrenaline, Gokudera slammed a palm into the sliding door. Hibari deigned to give him an annoyed look over one shoulder.

"The hell was that?" Gokudera hissed. Hibari raised one eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Compromise," Hibari said smoothly, before slipping into the bedroom and closing the door behind him. Bewildered, Gokudera retrieved the case from the ledge, turning it over in his hands. He only now realised that it was heavy but delicate, like ceramic. In his mind's eye he could see it crumpling like a car crash on the pavement below. Gokudera opened it with finely shaking hands, running a thumb over the seven sticks left. His distorted face was laughably ashen, staring at him from behind the Tenth's message.

Gokudera snapped the case shut and closed his eyes. The Tenth expected him to succeed in this mission. It was a simple and devastating truth. Gokudera would succeed even if he was killed trying, and Hibari might actually sign onto that with pleasure.

"'Compromise' he says," Gokudera muttered, closing the case with a tired snap. "What's that, code for 'I won't half-kill you as long as I get my way'?" He was tempted to light up there and then, but squashed the rebellious thought quickly. He wasn't sure he could keep Hibari from his case for the length of the whole mission and damn if the man wasn't vindictive. He still held a grudge against Mukuro for beating him once in middle school, for crying out loud.

He stood in the darkening night until he couldn't feel his face from the cold. In the end, he went inside, put on his coat and had a couple of smokes on the staircase half a landing down.

They were unusually bitter.

**Tenth, this 'partnership' is going to end in complete disaster. –59**

**CANCEL**

**Tenth, why am I the one on this mission again?—59**

**CANCEL**

**Merry Christmas, Tenth. –59**

 


	5. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Hibari insults Naples? orz sorry

 

25 Dec

The doorbell startled Hibari, loathe as he was to admit it. On the couch, Gokudera muttered curses into his pillow.

"Merry Christmas!" Chiavarone called through the door. "Come on, Kyouya, I know you're awake."

Hibari unlocked the door and opened it. Cold air rushed in and passed through his thin white shirt. An involuntary shudder ran down his back.

"Hurry up or I'll bite you to death."

"What happened to peace on earth and goodwill to men?" Chiavarone teased as he stepped inside, looking quite comfortable in a beige coat and red and yellow scarf.

"No shoes," Hibari said, locking the door.

"Ah, sure," Chiavarone said. He balanced on one leg to slip off his left shoe and promptly fell over. "Whoops," he grinned lopsidedly, looking up at Hibari from an ungainly sprawl. "Guess I'm not awake yet."

Hibari refused to look at Chiavarone's stupid sheepish face. He considered stepping over the tangle of fabric and annoyingly long legs that was the blonde mafia boss. He decided that it wasn't worth the effort.

"Get off my floor."

"Yup, hang on a sec," the blonde said, righting himself. He took off his shoes and neatly placed them beside Hibari's and Gokudera's.

"Wanna give me a hand up?" Chiavarone asked hopefully. Upon Hibari's flat stare, he laughed and stood on his own.

"It was worth a try. This is for you, by the way," he said, giving Hibari the paper shopping bag he'd just fallen on. "Since you're changing your colours, I thought I'd get you something."

Hibari peered in. Chiavarone hadn't bothered wrapping the brilliant white coat or taking off its price tag. Hibari made quick mental conversion to yen as he ran his fingers over the material. The coat was as expensive as it looked, its aqua and grey on silver tartan lining stage whispering 'designer goods'. By the side, Chiavarone grinned expectantly.

"White is a liability," Hibari said, and Chiavarone's grin grew wider. There was nothing else Hibari could complain about, and Chiavarone was one of the few persistent enough to know that nice baubles added up to favours eventually, even with Hibari.

"Then you'll die pretty," Chiavarone shot back playfully. Hibari whacked him on the back of the ribs.

"Ow! So mean, Kyouya. It was a compliment!"

"I'll make tea," Hibari said, dropping the coat back into the back and walking round the partition.

"Nice place," Chiavarone commented, looking around. He spotted Gokudera sleeping face down on the sofa. "Why, hello there, Smoking Bomb. Merry Christmas!"

Gokudera groaned and lifted his head to take a bleary look at the  _Chiavarone_  don before dropping back to his pillow.

"Why is he here?" the guardian despaired, voice muffled.

"Such a warm welcome from you two today. I said I'd drop by, yesterday," Chiavarone replied, walking to the kitchen table. "I'm going for mass, wanna come along?"

"Hibari's not Catholic and I'm not awake."

"If I ask enough times, Kyouya'll cave," Chiavarone said with a wink. Hibari huffed and set a cup of tea in front of Chiavarone. The blonde took a sip and nearly dropped the cup. "Hot!"

Hibari sipped his own tea with no problems. Chiavarone made a face.

"If you're free you should come," Chiavarone prompted.

"No," Hibari replied and the blonde's chin lifted sharply. He met Hibari's eyes, all questions. Hibari glanced at the other  _Vongola_ guardian clearly within earshot. Chiavarone nodded.

"How about you, Smoking Bomb?" he asked lightly. "It's Christmas. You should go for mass today, of all days."

"You're not going to shut up unless I say yes," Gokudera complained.

"Something like that," Chiavarone agreed, raising a conspiratorial eyebrow to Hibari. Hibari refrained from rolling his eyes and took another sip of tea.

"Ffffff—fine. Give me ten minutes," Gokudera replied. He rolled off the sofa and headed for the bedroom. Chiavarone waited for the sound of running water before turning to Hibari, chocolate eyes sharp.

"What are you busy with today and do you need backup," Chiavarone listed lowly. Hibari raised an eyebrow. Chiavarone snorted.

"Don't act cute with me. You hate people answering for you and usually you'd think about going if I asked twice. What's going on? The last time you acted this way you got shot."

Hibari put down his tea with a gentle clink of ceramic. Chiavarone worried too much. The worst injury Hibari ever got from a gun was a hole in a suit jacket, once. The fight had been worth Sawada's later tirade about repair costs and 'toning it down'. Pity about the shooter.

"Mind your own business," Hibari answered. Chiavarone sighed.

"Did you at least tell him?" Chiavarone asked with a toss of his head towards the wall separating the kitchen from the bathroom. Hibari did not dignify that question with a response. He topped up Chiavarone's tea, then his own.

"Kyouya, what did you do that for! I didn't even—it was already too hot!"

Hibari smirked and drank his own tea.

-/\\-

Hibari wore the new coat out and regret it immediately. In typical Chiavarone style, it shouted 'shoot me' to any sniper within a thousand meters. Hibari's guard edged higher every time he caught a glimpse of his unfamiliar reflection in a pane of glass or metal surface.

He turned heads all the way to the Parco del Poggio. Through sheer willpower and quick reflexes, he avoided the crowds of families with small children and artistic couples. He walked to the far end of the park, away from the entrance and the open air stage, and found an isolated bench. There was still the odd passer-by, but mercifully it was free of crowds.

Hibari waited on the park bench and took pictures of pigeons.

A middle-aged woman in a navy coat paused her leisurely walk. She met Hibari's eyes from behind stylish black-rimmed glasses. Her face was all planes, with a severe line to her nose and jaw, made even stronger with dark eyeliner and a dark red lip.

"Merry Christmas," she said briskly, tucking her ash-blonde hair behind the ear nearer to Hibari. "Are you out here on your own?" Her Japanese was fluent, if accented.

"Yes," Hibari answered. "For business."

"On Christmas?"

"The work never rests, and neither do we."

She bowed slightly and took a seat next to Hibari.

"My name is Celeste Lazzaro," she said, offering her name card with two hands. Hibari accepted it and kept it without looking. "It is a pleasure to meet you, director. Regional director Elisio sends his apologies for not being able to meet you in person, but unfortunately his work is keeping him in Milan." She had good manners, for a foreigner. Then again, all the employees in Foundation Italy probably had a compulsory crash course.

"My cover name is Takahashi Kaoru," Hibari said. "Do not call me director for now."

"Understood," Celeste said. They did not shake hands, instead staring out across the park. "Elisio asked me to be point of contact for information, but did not give me any further details."

"He was not given details. I will brief you."

"A suggestion, Takahashi-san," Celeste said, with a respectful dip of her head. Hibari indicated for her to continue with a nod. "Could we speak while walking? It is easier and less suspicious."

Hibari inclined his head further in assent. They stood. Hibari dusted his coat off and Celeste adjusted her handbag on her shoulder.

"Are you able to accommodate my alias?" Hibari asked.

"What is the nature of the relationship you have in mind?"

"Working friend of my aunt," Hibari decided after a moment. "Takahashi Hanako."

"May I ask your permission to take some liberties in acting this role?" Celeste requested.

"Yes, to whatever extent necessary to garner information, or to make the cover believable. You may refer to me as Kaoru," Hibari told her, mentally commending her for asking. "It is more appropriate, given our difference in age."

They walked their way out of the park and down to the city, cutting across grass rather than taking the noisy footpaths.

"I need information on Vico Corvi's latest activity," Hibari instructed. "Pay special attention to people he regularly contacts. Also, to how he spends his money and who he supports or is in line with. Separately, all the information of the  _Costeggiare_ family you can find."

" _Costeggiare_ is having succession problems now _,"_ Celeste supplied. Hibari nodded.

 _"_ Provide details on those problems in your reports. Background, allegiances, strengths, weaknesses, effects. _"_

 _"_ Understood," Celeste said. "As for Vico Corvi, you mean the defence lawyer? _"_

"Yes," Hibari replied. "Look for a possible protégé, not necessarily in the same industry."

 _"_ I'll have my people work on it _,"_ Celeste acknowledged. "How is Hanako?" she added abruptly as they neared the gate and the crowds.

"She is well, still working PR in JP Morgan," Hibari replied with an easy smile, adapting easily to the shift to his alias.

"Yes, we keep in touch, but there's only so much emails can tell," Celeste sighed. "How long are you in Naples?"

"Who knows? Maybe a week, maybe a year. I am here with a friend, who is posted here for work."

"Oh? What kind of work?"

"Writing."

"Ah," she nodded, knowingly. "This city has many stories to tell. The scenery is beautiful too. I can understand why a writer would come here. Is it a lady friend?"

Hibari as Kaoru laughed politely, dismissively. It was a laugh he'd learned from working with Kurokawa Hana, who was now to  _Vongola_  much like Vico was to  _Costeggiare._  Not part of, but not separate from the mafia's sphere of influence.

"No girlfriend? How unexpected. You've got looks that people would notice. I don't think anyone would forget you if they've even seen you once. Is that tiresome?" Celeste's easy speech layered on top of a second conversation that asked why the aliases and whether his minimal disguise would even work at all. Hibari's opinion of her competence just kept rising.

"Quite," Hibari said with a confident smirk. The enemy didn't know him yet, which was all Hibari needed to get the upper hand, and why he was using a network of informants. Celeste nodded and did not pursue the matter further.

By now they were in the twisting, narrow streets of the city. Bicycles leaned against the walls and metal staircases zig-zagged up to windows. They passed a few people, dressed in considerably more festive colours than the blues and monochromes both Celeste and Hibari sported, but this area appeared quiet. The shadows the buildings left the alleys in were overly-dramatic but genuine, much like the people the city bred.

" _Hey, signora L_ ," a young voice called out to them in Italian. A schoolboy with grubby hands and a slight smear of dirt on a mischievous face was sitting on the low outcrop cement in front of a glass display like he owned the shop.

Celeste and Hibari stopped and she gestured for the boy to join them with a wave. He jumped to his feet, stuck his hands in his pockets and walked over with a little swagger in his step.

" _This is my best operative_ ," Celeste said with a slight smile. The boy puffed his little chest out and lifted his chin, his curly black hair bouncing with the movement. " _If there is word on the street, Gennaro will know it first_."

" _Good that you know_ ," the boy grinned.

" _This is K_ ," Celeste introduced Hibari. Gennaro looked Hibari up and down once.

" _Are you strong_?" Gennaro asked bluntly. Hibari looked down at the little, unimpressed face.

" _Yes_ ," Hibari said. Gennaro's eyebrows rose slightly, hazel eyes widening at the depth of Hibari's voice. The child leaned forward.

" _Can you do karate_?" Gennaro demanded with all seriousness. The boy's eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, intent on Hibari's answer. Celeste clicked her tongue sharply and Gennaro glanced at her but did not retract his question.

" _No_ ," Hibari answered. He did not volunteer the fact that he knew several other martial arts that were not karate. Gennaro's face fell.

" _Oh. I guess it's not like the movies, then_ ," Gennaro sighed in a very adult way. He lifted his face back up. " _I buy my own movie tickets_ ," he announced offhandedly. His face was too smug for him to pretend it didn't matter.

" _Yes, and now you can earn your wages_ ," Celeste said, pressing twenty euros into Gennaro's little hand. " _Show K the neighbourhood. Watch out for him and if he gives you instructions, follow_."

" _Everyone already saw him with you_ ," Gennaro pointed out, but the note had already disappeared into his jacket. Celeste didn't respond to that.

"If you'll excuse me, K-san, I need to visit some relatives and finish up some projects," she said in Japanese that was only just above a whisper.

"Of course," Hibari replied, matching her volume. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," she responded and took her leave.

Hibari and Gennaro looked at each other. The boy shrugged.

" _I guess I'll just show you around._   _Just remember the places you don't want to find yourself in. Don't worry about remembering the streets. People can live here for years and still get lost_ ," he explained as he began leading the way through the back of the city, pointing out the dangerous areas and streets along the way.

Hibari refrained from snorting in contempt. His memory for places was much better than his memory for people, and once he walked a route, it was impossible for him to get lost.

He memorised this new place with the tread of his shoes in measured, even steps, easy as breathing. It would not be as complete a map in his mind as Namimori, but then, there wasn't an inch in Namimori he hadn't earned with miles and hours. His presence was impressed on every street, on every wall, on every rooftop.

He had memorised Namimori and Namimori had memorised him. To Hibari, those two statements were the same truth, inseparable.

Naples did not compare to his Namimori, and he tried not to think of home lest he start acting with the slight revulsion his surroundings deserved. Hibari followed the boy at a steady pace, down rickety street after rickety street, with offshoots forming dark alleys like capillaries.

Gennaro was ten steps ahead in the short bursts children sometimes run, talking to a gaggle of children who stopped their soccer game to welcome him. The buzz of Italian and the slightly bogged down heartbeat of a foreign city wore down the edges of Hibari's mind even as he tried to take it in.

Something—someone —grabbed Hibari roughly, swiping him into a dark alley.

Inhaling sharply into now tender ribs, Hibari's head came up. There were two men—no three. The last one was holding a gun, keeping lookout. The man with a handful of Hibari's coat planted a fist into Hibari's stomach. Hibari grunted but his core was strong enough that there wasn't much damage done.

These were amateurs. Hibari's hands were still free.

Counter.

The sleeve of Chiavarone's gift was a blur. His fingers dug into a point in his captor's elbow and the hand in his coat went slack. Hibari stepped in and landed a neat uppercut. The second man rushed forward into a kick that snapped his head round. They hit the ground almost in sync.

Hibari didn't pause to notice. He ducked as the lookout's shaky hand raised and aimed the gun. Pirouetting and producing a tonfa, Hibari's momentum brought the bar of steel into the man's neck. The man crumpled to the ground, gun clattering uselessly out of his hands.

Hibari collapsed his tonfa. He dusted off his coat as well as he could, but the felt-like material gripped dirt and grime with the tenacity of a cat being dragged to a bath.

He walked out of the alley. Gennaro was just running back, swearing up a storm.

The whole event had taken less than a minute.

" _Are you okay_?" the boy cut off his stream of profanities to demand. " _Tell me who the sons of whores are, they'll regret it. Fuck, the signora will be so mad if she finds out._ "

Hibari looked at him evenly. " _I am fine_ ," he replied, and waited for the boy to calm down.

" _Shit, I should have noticed you were so far back, of course they would target you. You won't tell the signora will you? She's scarier than the mafioso when she's angry. And are you sure you're alright_?"

Hibari indicated the alley with a sideways glance. Gennaro followed the line of sight and saw the would-be thugs out for the count.

" _You did that? Shit, you're fucking kidding me_ ," Gennaro said, unable to decide whether he wanted to stare at the three unconscious men or Hibari. " _I mean, wow. Fuck_."

Hibari brought his hand up to the edge of his hand stopped right before Gennaro's eyes. The boy jerked back, fumbling his words.

" _Language_ ," Hibari said. Gennaro's jaw snapped shut, and he nodded furiously.

Hibari smiled maybe just the tiniest bit.

" _Where is the nearest shop that sells hot cocoa_?" Hibari asked.

" _You mean coffee_?" Gennaro asked. " _Sir_ ," he added belatedly.

" _Not coffee_ ," Hibari corrected, to Gennaro's look of surprise. " _Chocolate. Or Tea_."

" _But everyone drinks coffee_ ," Gennaro muttered to himself, scratching his head in confusion. He didn't argue with Hibari's decision though, and led the way to a square that opened up for no reason in the middle of the mess of streets and side alleys. A café had tables with large umbrellas going all the way out to nearly half the square.

Hibari bought two hot chocolates and gave one to Gennaro.

" _I drink coffee_ ," Gennaro sulked slightly. Hibari looked at him, and the boy seemed to realise what, or rather whom, he had just complained to. " _Sorry, I mean, thanks_."

They took a seat and Gennaro told Hibari, in disconnected bits and pieces, what he knew of the city and the latest happenings. The boy also tried several times with varying levels of tact to get Hibari to tell him what had happened in that alley and more importantly, how Hibari had beaten up those three guys who were all bigger than himself. Hibari didn't disclose that, but he gave points to the boy for trying, and for amusing him.

The attempted mugging had served one purpose at least. Hibari's mind was clear again, and his guard reinforced to keep aware of what was going on around him. This time he picked up the unbalanced line of one man's walk, ungainly, steps going from left to right rather than measured and straight.

Hibari grabbed Gennaro as the man bumped into the boy's chair and hot coffee poured onto the space Gennaro had been half a second before. The table shook and Hibari held his own cup steady with his other hand, though there was no saving Gennaro's drink as it toppled, adding to the mess.

" _Wha— watch what the hell you're doing, fucker!_ " Gennaro spat. Hibari cuffed him on the back of the neck. The man looked horrified.

" _I'm so sorry_ ," he told Hibari, his brown eyes wide and his hands flailing as he scrambled to pick up the fallen cups. " _Really, I apologise, oh dear God, I'm lucky your reflexes are fast_."

" _It was nothing_ ," Hibari replied, staring at the man's face. The wavy, dirty blonde hair and the downward ends of his eyes were vaguely familiar.

" _My God, you're lucky that kid's friend is fast_ ," an older man said in almost a drawl, walking up from behind the blonde. " _You can get second degree burns from hot liquid_." His hair was a mousey brown with a generous amount of grey in it, and his eyes were on Hibari as he spoke.

" _I know, that's what I said, Dario_ ," the first man muttered and it clicked in Hibari's mind.

These men were Peppe Mari and Dario Azzarà, the  _Costeggiare_ boss candidate and right hand. Hibari suppressed the urge to smirk at his luck and smiled disarmingly.

 _"No harm done,"_ Hibari said as Gennaro scowled. He stood. _"Wait here, I'll a buy another drink for you,"_ he said to the boy, and Dario waved him to sit down _._

 _"Please, it is our fault. Allow us to buy,"_ the brunette insisted. Hibari shook his head, but Dario walked with him to the counter.

 _"One hot chocolate,"_ Hibari told the girl at the cashier.

 _"And one coffee. On me, please, young lady,"_ Dario added with a smile, pushing a note forward.

 _"That is not necessary,"_ Hibari replied, and Dario laughed as an uncle might.

 _"Let's not be polite,"_ Dario said. The cashier girl took his money, and Hibari met the dark eyes of the Costeggiare right hand.

 _"You are unusually fast,"_ Dario commented. _"To have saved both the boy and your drink."_

" _I play sports_ ," Hibari hedged. While he appreciated verbal exchanges, the subtle power tussles were not something he would suffer if he did not have to.

" _Is that so_ ," Dario said, with a pleased smile that Hibari did not like. " _What do you play_?"

" _Baseball_ ," Hibari said immediately. He had no interest in sports, though he had good reflexes and instinct. Baseball was the first thing that came to his mind. Hibari had done enough missions with the Rain Guardian to be 'enlightened' about the basics of the sport. Besides, hitting a small moving object was similar to hitting an enemy. Hibari suspected he would be rather good at it.

" _Sirs, your drinks_ ," the counter girl said. Hibari said his thanks, took the hot chocolate and met Dario's suspicion with a smile.

" _Thank you for the drink_ ," Hibari said, raising the cup slightly.

" _My pleasure_ ," Dario said. " _And once more, our apologies_."

They walked to different tables. Gennaro had relocated with Hibari's cup to a table far from where Peppe was sitting.

" _No one touched your drink except me_ ," the boy reported. " _And I wouldn't do anything to it, because if something happened to you, signora L would kill me._ "

Hibari handed the hot chocolate he was holding to Gennaro and took back his own. He glanced over to where Dario now sat with Peppe, and the blonde boss candidate happened to be looking at the same moment. Peppe smiled sheepishly and Dario looked to see who it was. The brunette met Hibari's eyes with a knowing look, and Hibari felt the itch of an impending fight with a worthy opponent. The blonde was a herbivore but the brunette might provide an interesting battle.

" _Boy_ ," Hibari said, voice low. Gennaro sat up straighter, sensing something had changed. " _I want information on them_ ," Hibari said, glancing in the direction of the  _Costeggiare men_. Gennaro snapped his gaze to Peppe's back. His dark curls bounced as he looked up at Hibari for confirmation and Hibari nodded.

Hibari didn't bother making small talk after that, letting Gennaro continue with his stories of how Naples worked. Hibari only half listened, only raising his head when Peppe and Dario stood to leave.

" _They are leaving_ ," Hibari interrupted, halfway through Gennaro's explanation of the Falcons, motorbike cops who did drug raids. The boy nodded.

" _Nice to meet you, mister K_ ," he grinned, then he was off. He did not exactly follow the two men, but Hibari didn't care.

He finished the last of his hot chocolate and started on the long walk back to the apartment.

-/\\-

"We have to entertain the landlady," Gokudera announced the second Hibari stepped through the door. "On the bright side," he continued. "The landlady's son is scared shitless of you, so he's not going to be here."

Hibari didn't pause in hanging his coat up and inspecting it. There was a layer of grime where his back had been pressed against the wall in the alley and he frowned.

"When?" he asked, walking over to Gokudera's low table and swiping a roll of tape from under it.

"Tonight. In one hour, specifically."

Hibari glared at Gokudera, having no words to express his annoyance at the rudeness of the short notice.

"Don't look at me like that, she's fucking pushy and my cover would break otherwise. Just cook something nice, since you insist that 'the kitchen is yours'."

Hibari tore a piece of tape off and slipped the roll onto his wrist. He used the sticky piece to strip the dirt off his new coat. It worked, but left the material a little fuzzy.

"Where did you go today anyway? I thought you'd be back some time ago," Gokudera asked conversationally.

Hibari didn't see how that was any of Gokudera's business and was in no mood to talk, so he didn't answer.

"Fine, be like that," Gokudera muttered. He had clearly not learned the range of Hibari's hearing yet. "At least give me a rundown of your alias," he said, louder.

"Takahashi Kaoru, police officer on forced leave. We are friends from middle school through university. You are here for writing research and I had intended to travel anyway," Hibari summarised, observing his handiwork on the coat. It was mostly back to its original pure white, but he had to see it again under daylight to be sure.

"'Forced leave'? Is that even a thing?" Gokudera asked. Hibari snorted.

"It's a euphemism for suspension. Subordination and provoked assault of a superior officer. He was terminated for breach of duty, but for image's sake, I was suspended for a year."

"That's a bit dramatic. How is the name written?"

"'Tall', 'bridge', 'fragrance'."

"Okay, got it," Gokudera said, more to himself than to Hibari. Hibari placed the roll of tape back where he found it and headed to the kitchen.

Considering the contents of the fridge for a while, Hibari grabbed his ingredients and, after a moment's thought, the leftover rice from his breakfast this morning. With only two people eating, cooking a full pot and refrigerating the rest was simply easier. Especially when the inconsiderate flatmate suddenly started looking for food.

He mixed chawanmushi, set it to steam and started frying the fish and the rice. They were relatively fast dishes, and he had just finished plating when the doorbell rang.

"Eat," he told Gokudera as the man rose to get the door.

"Only two plates?" Gokudera noticed.

"I'm not eating with herbivores," Hibari snapped, and the thick-headed mixed-blood finally seemed to get the message that Hibari would use those knives for other than cooking if he had to suffer any more company for the day.

He disappeared into the room as the landlord's enthusiastic Italian went straight through the cardboard-thin walls.

" _Oh, hello Gale darling. Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas! Oh, that smells good! Looks amazing too. Where is Kaoru? Should we wait for him?_ " Angel asked.

" _He's not feeling well_ ," Gokudera covered quickly. Hibari didn't hear any more as he took a blissfully hot shower. Although technically Naples was warmer than Namimori, Hibari always found the cold was worse overseas. Not that he was good with cold to begin with.

He was warm and comfortable and thinking of forgoing dinner in favour of sleeping when someone knocked.

"Hey, when you're ready come on out," Gokudera said through the door. Hibari reflexively looked up from where he was sitting cross-legged on his bed.

"What is it?" Hibari asked irritably.

"Landlord has presents. Also, I need an excuse to flee, because otherwise, I get the feeling I won't get any work done today."

Hibari didn't feel very charitable towards the other man at the moment, and took a moment to weigh the pros and cons between staying and showing his face.

"She might stay until the early hours of the morning, for goodness' sake, get out here, okay?" Gokudera sighed.

Hibari grudgingly got changed and stepped out of the room.

" _Kaoru darling, how are you feeling? Oh, you do look a bit pale. A bit skinny too, which is such a surprise, because the food you make is wonderful_."

" _No parla Italiano_ ," Hibari said in Italian, after allowing a pause. He smiled Kaoru's smile and shook his head apologetically. From behind the landlady, Gokudera gave him a shocked and mildly horrified expression.

"What are you doing, Kaoru-kun," Gokudera asked in Japanese, voice straining slightly.

"I am not going to talk to the herbivore," Hibari said simply.

"So you're going to pretend that you can't speak Italian?" Gokudera hissed.

"If you say otherwise, I will bite you to death."

Gokudera gritted his teeth into a smile and turned back to the landlady.

" _Sorry, that's the only thing he knows how to say in Italian_ ," Gokudera told her. She waved it off.

" _It is no trouble. Anyway, I got the two of you a little something_ ," Angel said, handing them scarves. They were identical, black with long white stripes and white tassels. Angel looked at Gokudera expectantly and he quickly wrapped it around his neck.

" _It's very nice, thank you_ ," Gokudera said and gave her a quick hug and a kiss on each cheek. "Wear it," he mouthed at Hibari, who was looking on in polite impassiveness. Hibari raised an eyebrow and put the scarf down on the counter. Gokudera rolled his eyes.

Figuring this was a good time, Hibari took a plain paper bag from a drawer and pushed it towards Gokudera. The fellow guardian looked at the bag on the countertop, then at Hibari, then back at the back.

"What's that supposed to be?" Gokudera asked.

"For you," Hibari replied.

"You got me a Christmas present," Gokudera said in disbelief. Hibari nodded and Gokudera reached for the bag slowly, as if it were about to bite his hand off.

"You got me a Christmas present," Gokudera repeated, apparently deciding it warranted another vocalisation. He started opening the present while still staring at Hibari. He seemed to come to some conclusion becaused he emptied the contents of the bag on the table in one quick motion. Nicotine patches and gum spilled onto the countertop.

"Thoughtful," Gokudera said dryly, picking up a box and examining the back.

" _Oh, are you trying to quit, Gale? I think it's sweet that he's looking out for your health. I'm trying to quit too_ ," Angel commented. Her overly-animated manner of talking grated Hibari's nerves and he went for the door.

"Oi, where are you going?" Gokudera asked.

"Out," Hibari responded shortly, grabbing the white coat off the rack.

" _Sorry Angel, we're going for a walk_ ," Gokudera said. Hibari glared at Gokudera. Who did he think he was, inviting himself?

" _Oh, what a good idea. I think I'll come along_ ," she said.

Hibari's glare intensified.

" _Actually, we'd like to walk alone. Christmas is quite a big thing back in Japan_ ," Gokudera told her. Her eyes widened and her pink lips formed an 'o'.

" _I get it, I get it. Have fun, dearies!_ " With that she left, walking down the row of apartments to the lift.

"Oh God, I thought she was never going to leave," Gokudera muttered as they walked down the stairs. Hibari maintained his silence until they had reached bus stop.

"Why does it matter that today is Christmas?" Hibari asked. Gokudera's pace slowed momentarily before he continued walking.

"It was just an excuse to get her to leave us alone," Gokudera explained.

He hadn't answered the question. Hibari's hand went to the tonfa clipped to his belt.

"What does the landlord think of us exactly?" Hibari asked in low tones, already suspecting the answer.

"That we're a gay couple," Gokudera admitted. Without hesitation, Hibari spun half a step away to face the storm guardian, tonfa at the ready.

"I'll bite you to death," Hibari snarled, lunging for Gokudera's throat.

"At least let me explain!" Gokudera yelled, sidestepping and pulling out a handful of explosives.

Hibari got one good hit in anyway, but after he had sent Gokudera flying, he stopped to hear whatever stupid reason the other guardian had to give.

"Bastard," Gokudera coughed, glaring up at Hibari.

"Your explanation," Hibari prompted.

"We got a got deal on the place and additional alias cover because of this strange idea which I did not come up with, by the way. It was all her idea, and there were too many disadvantages to saying no."

Hibari considered that for a long time. The likelihood of getting the storm guardian to give up a 'good deal' was quite low. The question was: what could Hibari get out of this revelation?

"Bed is mine," Hibari concluded. Gokudera frowned.

"And how are you going to explain that to the landlord?" he asked, just to be difficult.

"I kicked you out,  _'Anata'_ ," Hibari's voice twisted of its own accord on the last word, mocking the endearment.

Gokudera gave him a look that was half fatigue and half derision.

"Fuck you," he replied, but that wasn't a 'no'.

Hibari smirked.

 


	6. Expectations

1 Jan

The New Year crept in quietly.

One moment it was the 31st, and the next time Gokudera looked at the corner of his laptop screen, he was an hour and half into the underwhelming 1st.

He didn't remember falling asleep but he woke to the sight of Hibari sitting on the floor across the table from him. The Cloud Guardian's legs were folded in the collapsed kneel of  _seiza_  and a map and several papers were spread across the coffee table.

 _Wow, that's weird_ , Gokudera thought through a sleepy haze. Although they lived in the same apartment, Gokudera barely saw the man. Hibari was an early bird and Gokudera slept until midday whenever he could get away with it, so they stayed out of each other's way quite easily.

The tyrant of Namimori glanced up at Gokudera's stirring.

"Chiavarone will be here at six," he said.

"Wha- time is it now?" Gokudera yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stretching.

"Two o' clock."

"Ahhhhh crap," Gokudera muttered. He dragged himself off the sofa and stumbled over to the kitchen for coffee. He went through two cups which were more powder than liquid before he was awake enough to hold a conversation like a living human being.

"What's he coming for?" the storm guardian asked. Hibari made a sweeping stroke across a piece of paper with a highlighter and put it by his side on the floor.

"Progress update," he replied. Gokudera snorted.

"Of lack thereof," Gokudera said, raising the dregs of his second cup in mocking salute. He then tipped the remains into the sink, rinsed the cup and stirred a third.

Hibari's extended silence was distinctly derisive.

" _Costeggiare_  are fucking sneaky bastards, so it's expected," Gokudera added to keep the conversation alive. He could have sworn he saw Hibari smirk a little. "What, it's true."

He walked over to take a look at Hibari's work. Large sections on the coast and several areas in town were marked in yellow, and blue highlights were marked seemingly at random over the city.

"What's this for anyway?" Gokudera asked.

"Wait," Hibari said and Gokudera took a seat on one side of the sofa. He looked over the table at Hibari, whose hands arranged the papers with the absent irritation of someone thinking too many thoughts to capture any. His posture was perfect.

"Because fuck the sofa, who needs one," Gokudera muttered and snickered into his third cup of coffee.

Hibari's highlighter hovered over some place in the heart of the city before he threw it down and went for a pen instead. He wrote in illegible characters and made a couple more marks before looking up at Gokudera with a slightly annoyed expression.

"What?"

Gokudera started slightly. He hadn't expectedto be heard. Or acknowledged.

"Just that there's a perfectly good piece of furniture here, but you're sitting on the floor," Gokudera shrugged honestly. "It looks uncomfortable."

Hibari took a moment to consider Gokudera's statement. He tilted his head and stared at his pen, then turned his light grey eyes up.

"I prefer this," he concluded.

"You can't dislike sofas, you sat on one at Dino's without a problem," Gokudera said, furrowing his eyebrows a bit.

"Chiavarone does not sleep there," Hibari said, going back to his papers.

"Does it matter?" Gokudera asked over the rimof his mug.

Hibari looked up, brows ever so slightly raised.

"It is the place you sleep," Hibari said slowly, just shy of the "You're an Idiot" tone. Gokudera frowned.

"Really?" Gokudera asked, only half sarcastic. Hibari looked at him and went back to his work. Gokudera mulled over it a little. Hibari didn't go near the sofa in the apartment, and this was the first time Gokudera saw him touch the coffee table.

"Oh," Gokudera said. "The sofa is 'mine' and you aren't going to just touch my stuff. Am I right?"

"You ask too many questions," Hibari deflected but he inclined his head slightly.

"Alright," Gokudera said, loosely interlacing his fingers. There were more important things to address, seeing that Hibari was in a talking mood. "What are you working on?"

Hibari indicated the yellow highlights, index finger and thumb roughly tapping each diameter. "General enemy strongholds," he explained. After a quick tally with the general information that Chiavarone had provided, Gokudera realised that the yellow marks were more accurate parameters of the enemy's location. Not anything significantly new.

Hibari's fingers traced the markings in highlighter blue, erratic circles that had the darker spots of ink and uncertainty generously scattered along them.

"Where allegiance to the  _Costeggiare_ boss may be turning in favour of the  _consigliere—_ Vico Corvi."

Gokudera almost choked on his coffee.

_"What?"_

Hibari gave him a look between indifferent, annoyed and smug, all at the same time.

"When were you going to tell me this?" Gokudera asked, stunned. He set his coffee aside with only very slightly wobbly hands and turned the map to get a better look.

"Six," Hibari shrugged slightly, capping his pen.

"That's when Dino gets here," Gokudera remembered. He tore his eyes from the map for a second to look at Hibari incredulously. "I wouldn't have time to internalise this then!"

Hibari shrugged as if to say 'not my problem'.

Gokudera hissed a breath and returned to the map. The light blue slashes and circles were few, but felt all the more important for it. He felt in a little over his head.

"Do you even comprehend that I'm your partner?" Gokudera asked An ugly sourness settled into his chest and the palms of his hands.

Hibari regarded him flatly. It burned like acid and disregard.

"It makes no difference," Hibari stated.

 _" **No** ," _Gokudera spat. "Fuck you. I may have been doing desk work for seven years but even I know that is NOT how a partnership goddamn fucking works. You share your information and both of us work on your fucking stupid map."

Hibari's shoulders went back and up a little, but Gokudera didn't give Hibari time to be offended. Hibari didn't have the right to be offended.

"Ever thought that you might miss something? Like, I don't know, _the fact that Mr. blonde 'I-trip-over-my-own-feet' isn't part of Vongola!_ Why the hell is it okay to drop a surprise on me in front of another family's boss? What the hell is 'family' to you anyway? A bunch of sounds put together that you can just decide means fuck all whenever you feel like it? 'Cause you don't seem to give a shit for anything that it stands for!"

There was a silence broken by Gokudera's sharp inhale. He realised he was glaring down at Hibari. When did he stand up? Hibari's mouth curled into a sneer that showed some teeth.

"Sit," Hibari said, voice and eyes steel.

"No," Gokudera retorted. "Not until you admit the fucking problem."

Hibari swept up the papers and stood, challenge in the readiness of his stance and the lift of his head.

"I would gladly work alone," he intoned lowly, eyes narrowed.

"Fuck you, so would I," Gokudera bit out, then checked himself. It wasn't going to help here.

"Look," Gokudera started as reasonably as he could, running a hand through his hair. "Whether we like each other or not doesn't mean shit. As someone in your team—even if you don't have a fucking shred of respect for me—I should know before anyone else. It's decorum and it's useful to have a second opinion and I'm only in the next goddamned room, it's not that you have to go out of your way to tell me. Cooperation is the fastest way we can finish this mission and never have to see each other's face, so can we just agree not to be complete assholes about this and get shit done?"

Gokudera's breathing was loud in an extended silence. Hibari stared, thoughts unreadable behind his level gaze.

Finally, finally, Hibari held out the folded map and Gokudera took it.

"Big words, herbivore," Hibari said with a low dipping inflection. Gokudera got the faintest impression that the other man was amused by his outburst, but it could as easily have been annoyance. It was difficult to tell.

"The notes are the herbivore successor's behaviour," Hibari continued, in a flatter tone. For a moment Gokudera thought Hibari might say more but the dark-haired man left it at challenging silence. He abandoned the sprawled papers and closed the bedroom door behind him, leaving Gokudera with the faint buzz of unspoken 'prove yourself'.

Gokudera stared at the vandalised map and notes and felt something missing, but he didn't know what. It was almost like there was a pattern, but he was missing the joining piece of the puzzle and nothing quite fit together.

By six, he still hadn't made any headway.

He felt just a little bit inadequate.

-/\\-

Chiavarone was late.

It was a disgusting habit, but if seven years of physical violence couldn't fix the problem, nothing would. Hibari had very unhappily learned to work around it. Dinner, for example, was rice and bastardised hotpot, so he could take a nap until the blonde showed up.

Knock.

"Oi, get up. Dino's here."

Speak of the devil.

Hibari opened one eye to look at the door, but didn't move. Moving was too much effort when he was warm and comfortable.

Knock,  _knock_  knock knock.

"Kyouyaaaaaaaa, I'm hungry!"

Moving to inflict some well-deserved pain was worth the effort.

Knockknockknockknockknock.

Hibari threw the door open.

Thwack!

"Oww!" Chiavarone yelped, drawing his left arm to his chest.

"Look at the map first," Hibari instructed with little sympathy as Chiavarone checked to make sure his fingers were intact.

"It's hard to read your handwriting," Chiavarone whined as token protest. Hibari ignored him and went to see to the food.

"I'll go over it with you," Gokudera volunteered.

"Oh," Chiavarone said. He stood straighter and the shoulder towards Gokudera went up reflexively, almost like he'd forgotten the other man was there. "You don't have to, but okay. Thanks," the blonde said half over his shoulder.

Chiavarone was acting cool, pretending he could guess what Hibari's erratic colour coding systems were based on. Hibari raised an eyebrow, but he let it go. It wasn't like he intentionally made his documents difficult to follow. It was more like he used whatever colours whenever he wanted, and those colours changed quite often.

Sometimes even Hibari forgot what all his markings meant, and he chucked the whole lot to Kusakabe, who had the useful knack for making such problems go away.

"Kyouya!" Chiavarone called from the coffee table after the discussion had gone on for a while. "Have any theories not on here?"

"Yes," Hibari answered. "Food is ready," he added.

"Can I have this?" Chiavarone asked, getting to his feet with the map in hand.

Hibari gave him an unimpressed look. Chiavarone liked to try his luck, even when a normal person would realise that if the answer had been 'no' the last fifty times, the answer the fifty-first time was probably 'no'.

"Thank you," Chiavarone grinned and Hibari pointed the knife he was in the middle of washing.

"Put it down, herbivore."

Chiavarone laughed but the map was promptly placed back on the low table.

"I was joking, I was joking," Chiavarone insisted, waving his now-empty hands about.

"Can you just eat and go home?" Gokudera grumbled under his breath as he took his seat.

"Eat and leave," Hibari agreed. Gokudera looked up, slightly surprised. Chiavarone smiled sheepishly. Even he knew better than to try a tired Hibari's patience. He clapped his hands together.

" _Itadakimasu_!"

Hibari nodded acknowledgement and the blonde tucked in.

" _Itadakimasu_ ," Gokudera echoed reluctantly. Hibari refrained from raising an eyebrow and turned to finish washing up. Peer pressure apparently improved the half-blood's manners.

"So, theories?" Gokudera prompted. Hibari placed the last utensil on the drying rack and turned back to eat while standing.

"I am waiting for information from my contacts before I decide," Hibari replied, neatly portioning some of the hotpot to his own bowl.

"Who are they and do you trust them?" Gokudera continued, slightly lower. Hibari did not reply immediately, making sure not to let the soup from the ladle drip onto the table. He set his bowl down neatly and looked at the people sitting across the counter. Gokudera looked at him expectantly while Chiavarone ate and pretended not to be as interested as he was.

"Does it matter?" Hibari asked back, not seeing the relevance of the question. Information was information. It didn't matter if it came from an ally or the bloodied lips of a broken enemy, as long as it was true.

Chiavarone burst into laughter, nearly choking on a mushroom. Gokudera was promptly annoyed.

"Heh heh haa pfft, give up, Smoking Bomb!" the so very dignified mafia boss giggled. "That's typical Kyouya for you."

"Of course it matters!" Gokudera insisted, gesturing with his chopsticks. "What if they try to attack you, or feed you wrong information?"

"I fact-check," Hibari replied slowly, eyeing the wildly flailing chopsticks with distaste. Chiavarone had to put his own pair down from laughing too hard. "And if you are done eating, get out of my house," Hibari directed towards the blonde.

"Nope, not even half done!" Chiavarone chirruped back. "It's been a while since I've had real Japanese food. Your cooking is good."

"Yeah, it does taste like the stuff back home," Gokudera said, which was somewhat less flattering but Hibari took it graciously.

"The brand is the same," Hibari admitted.

"Where—no,  _why_  the hell did you buy this then?" Gokudera gawked. "Why would you go all the way to another country just to buy the things we export?"

Hibari paused. The miser had a point.

"I will have Kusakabe ship it out."

Gokudera dropped his face into his palm.

" _No_ ," he said. "Just no. That's not what I meant."

"What Smoking Bomb here means to say is you should take this opportunity to use some of the local produce," Dino smiled as he held up his bowl. "Do I get seconds?"

"You'll grow fat," Hibari warned as he accepted the bowl. Dino pouted.

"Don't be so mean!" he protested, but it he broke into a smile straight after. "I'm sure I'll still look handsome even if I do put on a couple of pounds."

Gokudera snorted. "Modest, aren't you, Bucking Horse."

"Am I right?" Dino asked with a raised eyebrow. He nodded. "I'm right."

"Stop embarrassing yourself," Hibari said, handing Dino his bowl, neatly filled with a mound of red rice. Dino winked.

"I'm not embarrassed," he replied. "Thank you, Kyouya!" Chiavarone ate at a more civilised pace now. He had been honest when he said he was hungry earlier.

"Anyway, there's not much on my end. No escalation, which is good, but they're still giving my boys a hard time. No news about the kid tripping over a rock and dying of stupidity either, sadly," Chiavarone sighed melodramatically at the end but there was a hard edge to his last sentence.

"No real patterns to Peppe Mari's movements. Not any that I can tell for now. He stays within  _Costeggiare_ territory most of the time," Gokudera remarked.

"With the older one," Hibari added. Gokudera's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "The less herbivorous one," Hibari explained.

"I think he means Dario Azzarà , old man Mari's right hand," Chiavarone said in response to Gokudera's unchanged expression. A spark of recognition.

"Oh," Gokudera said, sitting back. "That makes sense. They probably have other made men discreetly nearby too, as bodyguards or muscle in case they meet  _Chiavarone_  people on the wrong side of town."

"My people wouldn't attack them in the middle of a street full of civilians," Chiavarone countered, a bit too accusatory.

"I'm not saying they would, I'm just saying it's a smart thing to do," Gokudera clarified.

"My contact will report in two weeks," Hibari contributed, speaking over the end of the storm guardian's sentence. Chiavarone went back to eating, chopsticks clacking against his teeth as he bit down harder than necessary. Gokudera didn't seem to notice.

"I do not expect any other developments on my side. Barring sudden movements from the advisor or herbivore heir, we will not meet until after then," Hibari concluded.

"Not seeing you for two weeks? But what will I do with myself? Will life be worth living?" Chiavarone gasped melodramatically before laughing at his own joke. Hibari narrowed his eyes.

"I will bite you to death, and this will be a non-issue," he retorted, resulting in more laughter.

"God, you two are noisy as hell," Gokudera grumbled.

Hibari turned his glare onto Gokudera even as he mentally agreed. Chiavarone was laughing too much.

"Live a little, Smoking Bomb!"

The lines of Gokudera's jaw and brow constricted. Hibari's weight went forwards unthinkingly.

"You have no right to tell me what to do, else I'd be picking fights with thugs and having my ass handed to me."

Chiavarone slammed his chopsticks down on the table.

"Have some respect for those who hold your front lines," Chiavarone gritted out, not turning his head to look at the man sitting beside him. His eyes were sienna fire. "And stop pretending that you know anything of blood and honour when you have neither."

"Are you insulting my  _famiglia,_ bastard?"

"You pushed your way into Tsuna's ranks when no one wanted you, and everyone knows it."

"Fuck you, I earned my place as the Tenth's right hand ten times over."

"With schemes that would make Satan blush, yes. Did Tsuna notice or is he actually that damn gullible—"

"You're sitting there benefitting from the Tenth's charity and you  _actually fucking dare_ —"

"—or is he just your puppet?"

A sharp intake of breath. The silence of words fighting for first right to be said.

Gokudera turned and rose and  _hauled_  Chiavarone out of his seat. The chair clattered precariously.

"Who the  _fuck_  do you think you are."

It wasn't a question. It was anger condensed to shards of poison.

Too late to back down. Chiavarone got his footing and drew himself up every inch of his superior height to look at Gokudera in a way that was all challenge and hastily constructed condescension to anyone who didn't know better.

"I am the  _Chiavarone_  boss," he answered lowly.

A beat.

"And I am the goddamned better man," Gokudera snarled quietly, matching Chiavarone's tenor. He let go of Chiavarone with a badly-contained half-shove and strode out of sight, behind the wall partition.

The door slammed. Biting curses to the night flooded easily back through the too-thin walls.

The storm guardian's voice softened with distance and stomping footsteps. Chiavarone hissed a sigh, shoulders relaxing. His gaze settled on the remainder of the food in his bowl, and the tightness in his mouth made it clear he'd lost his appetite.

"Thank you for the food," the blonde said, pushing in his chair. "I'll…" he took a breath. "Sorry. I guess I'll just leave now."

Hibari set his chopsticks down and saw Chiavarone to the door without comment.

The blonde made it all the way to lacing up his boots before opening his mouth again.

"Well, what?" Chiavarone asked as he straightened, and started doing up the buttons of his coat with one hand.

Hibari maintained a politely detached expression.

"Don't give me that face. That face tells me you're thinking of something. What is it," Chiavarone bit out. Hibari's expression remained perfectly impassive and he let Chiavarone finish every button before replying.

"A fight against you both," Hibari said thoughtfully. "I would win."

Chiavarone looked at him like he was some sort of mythical creature. The edges of Hibari's mouth twitched upwards. Chiavarone's followed.

"Oh Kyouya. You  _would_  think that."

"I would have bitten you both to death but I was eating," Hibari continued, and Chiavarone made a huff that sounded like a laugh with no voice.

"Please, you didn't eat a single bite when that rubbish was going on. I saw you, you were all 'ooh, is it stabby with kitchen utensils time? Is it my turn? Is it?'"

Hibari made a swipe at Chiavarone and the blonde couldn't quite avoid being hit in the shoulder blade. His fur-rimmed hood made a 'whump' sound and Chiavarone made a lopsided smile.

"Alright, my fault," he said, shaking his head. "Sorry for being a lousy guest."

"As usual," Hibari quipped flatly as he opened the door. The cold air made the muscles tense from his shoulders to his palms.

"So mean," Chiavarone fake-pouted as he stepped out. "I was being serious."

"Oh?"

"Kyouyaaaaaa, stop it. I'm really trying to apologise."

Hibari refrained from retorting to that. Chiavarone took the moment to compose his words, head down. He stuck his hands in his pockets. His dark brown eyes were stupidly sincere.

"I'm sorry that I picked a fight over the food you made. I'm sorry I didn't finish eating what I asked for. And… And I'm also sorry that you had to see that," he said, eyes not quite able to hold Hibari's own at the end.

Hibari said nothing, and after a moment Chiavarone continued, chin lifting upward to stare above the doorframe, as if he could see the sky through the concrete.

"I should apologise to Smoking Bomb," Chiavarone smiled ruefully. "I said some things I shouldn't have. I guess this mess with  _Costeggiare_  is getting to me after all."

His face was starkly shadowed by the yellow light set in the outside wall, just above the doorbell and the numbers "4A". He looked older than his years.

"I'm tired of this stalemate, Kyouya. I'm tired of my people getting hurt or dying. I'm tired of being nice to _Costeggiare_ when they make a joke of dealing with me. I wish there was an easy way out, but I couldn't take it even if there was one, because my people need me, and if I don't do what I'm supposed to, the people I love will die."

He swallowed, parted his lips as if to continue, but his words stuck in his throat and no more came.

"What good is complaining?" Hibari asked dryly. "Just do what you need to do."

Chiavarone laughed, two forced barks which became clouds of pale mist. He inhaled and made a face at how the cold air went down before looking at Hibari with the beginnings of a grin.

"You were about to say 'just do it', weren't you?" he waggled his eyebrows a bit and Hibari whacked him in the side, sent him stumbling a step towards the stairs.

"Go home, sleep and stop being stupid. It's cold," Hibari told him. Chiavarone laughed again, sincerely this time.

"Alright, alright, I'm going with a broken heart, you demon. Goodnight," the blonde said jokingly, stepping back from the door. Hibari rolled his eyes and Chiavarone made his way to the stairs.

The Italian paused and turned round as if he'd forgotten something.

"By the way, I want a soufflé next time!" Chiavarone waved.

Hibari snorted and closed the door without locking.

-/\\-

16 Jan

Teal was one of those colours that couldn't make up its mind if it was one colour or another. Coral. Lime. Maroon. Indigo. Hibari couldn't stand indigo.

He didn't like teal, so he wore it for Kaoru.

"Where are you going?" Gokudera asked, legs thrown over the armrest of the sofa. His laptop was open and balanced on his knees.

"Out."

"For?" Gokudera prompted as Hibari stood before the coat rack.

"Meeting a contact," Hibari intoned lowly, taking his black jacket. "Hibari's" jacket.

Gokudera snapped the laptop shut and pulled himself off the sofa.

"Don't you wear white for Kaoru?" he asked rhetorically.

And he was right. White was good and strong and kind and suited Kaoru. The coat called so much attention that people no longer saw Hibari, even if they were looking.

"Not today," Hibari said, but what he meant was there was too little of him in this land as it was, and that he was doing  _well_ —he was keeping his appointments, he was being accommodating, he was getting the job  _done_ —but he had made  _enough_  concessions and he wanted to be left alone.

"You could just get them to send you a file," Gokudera pointed out, reaching for his grey coat.

Hibari narrowed his eyes at the borderline trespassing of his personal space. Gokudera's hand withdrew slightly and stayed.

"You worried that the network could be compromised?" Gokudera asked, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"No," Hibari managed to keep the derision out of his voice. He didn't use 'the network' from the Vongola. Every report of significance was given in person. It was easier to tell if someone was lying, get immediate answers, bite someone to death for shoddy work. There was less evidence that a third party could get their hands on, as long as precautions were taken.

Hibari canted his head and regarded the half-Italian pulling on his grey coat. The storm guardian had surpassed Hibari's own conservatively average height a long time ago, and stood tall enough to be visible in a crowd. His hair was eastern-European blonde-brunette, four shades too light and yet another colour that was neither here nor there.

If he couldn't get rid of the annoyance, he might as well use it.

"The contact will be there at seven," Hibari said quietly. "Do not make me late, herbivore."

Gokudera's green-grey eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak but Hibari had already turned and was halfway out the door.

-/\\-

There was a problem.

Hibari scrutinised the menu once more and there continued to be no  _sake_  on the list. He contemplated leaving, but the contact was probably already here. He contemplated asking the contact to bring a bottle and faced the same problem. He frowned.

"Just choose something," Gokudera muttered. He had rattled off a fancy red wine that Hibari could only identify as such through years of suffering Chiavarone's lunch meetings.

The tiny descriptions were near impossible to read in the low light. Hibari gave up and pointed to a name that wasn't vulgar.

" _Original sin_ ," the bartender said. Hibari had no idea what that was but one overwhelmingly coarse poison was as good as another. He nodded, slid the menu back to the bartender, and took out his wallet.

" _Open a tab for us_ ," Hibari instructed in Italian, sliding over a hundred euro bill and determinedly ignoring the other guardian. The barkeep nodded and took the bills.

" _My god, do you only have hundreds_?" Gokudera griped, looking over Hibari's shoulder to the contents of his wallet. Hibari snapped his wallet shut and shot a glare at the storm guardian.

"Pry and I'll bite you to death, herbivore," Hibari said lowly. Reigning in his pride for work or a greater cause was one thing, standing for insult by a weakling was another. This useless fool didn't even realise he was on this mission as an ornament, and here he was, compromising Hibari's ability to carry out the mission, and Hibari was  _letting_  him.

"I'm just curious," Gokudera carried on, ulterior motive clear in his eyes. "The accounts have been a bit short lately." Hibari turned and grabbed the other's tie, dragging the taller man to eye level.

"I am not  _corrupt_ ," Hibari snarled because  _how dare he_. Gokudera met his gaze steadily, if with a touch of anger in return.

"Prove it," he challenged, removing Hibari's hand from his person. Hibari glowered, hand unconsciously going to his belt, where his tonfa were discretely clipped.

" _Sirs, your drinks_ ," the barkeep addressed with some trepidation.

Hibari took a step away from the other mafia man and swiped his drink off the counter. It was a green so dark it was nearly black.

"Find your own way back," Hibari said in barely audible Japanese before stalking off to another corner of the bar to wait for the informant.

Original Sin tasted terrible, sharp and sickeningly sweet, sour and bitter. Hibari was grateful that he didn't remember the price.

He placed it on the bar and glared at the little bubbles as they floated up and dotted the insides of the glass with silver. He was promptly interrupted.

"Why, hello there," a lady's voice, sultry, in flawless Japanese. "You look out of place."

Lies, Hibari blended into the shadows of the bar like an alley cat. He turned his head to look at the person addressing him.

It was Celeste, without her glasses. She had made herself out to be one of the multitude in slinky dresses and overdone eyes that made them look like they've been punched in the face twice. She was smoking. He wouldn't have thought it was her. He was impressed, if put-off.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Hibari asked. She raised a pencilled eyebrow.

"Do I not look like a working woman?" she answered his question with a question, and an admirable work ethic. This was still the same woman, even under the layers of makeup and projected sleaze.

"You do."

Perhaps his undercurrent of distaste was obvious. She laughed and waved to the bartender.

" _Chocolate martini_ ," she ordered. Hibari gave a meaningful look and the bartender nodded. When the drink arrived he didn't ask Celeste for her tab.

"How is the traffic?" Hibari asked conversationally.

"Hell," she replied, lowering her drink. "Even on foot. But I passed by some shops with sales on. I think I will go have a look. One shop looked particularly promising."

"Is that so." There were leads then, and the Foundation was researching them. Good.

"If you are free, perhaps you would like to accompany me."

Hibari took a moment to glance at Gokudera, who was scowling in the wrong direction, and still deluding himself that he was somehow being useful. Hibari scoffed quietly and took one more sip from his glass, but the conversation hadn't made it any less disgusting. He left the drink almost full and followed Celeste into the darkened street.

The streets were yellow lit and full of people. It was cold but the air was thick and stank of car fumes and trash.

"We have a name and a picture of someone we suspect to be Vico Corvi's protégé," Celeste said briskly as they walked. She stubbed her cigarette out on a railing, and dropped the stub into a bin.

"Oh?"

"He arrived by ferry last night, and went straight into deep  _Costeggiare_  territory, where we could not follow on short notice. I am preparing a team, and will have someone tail him. My inside men are asking around but I do not want to compromise them at this stage. We have no choice but to wait."

"Visual?" Hibari asked.

She slipped a piece of paper into his palm under the guise of holding hands while crossing the street. On the other side, Hibari took out his phone as if the paper had been with him in his pocket the whole time. It was half the size of his screen, folded twice.

Hibari unfolded the picture.

Yellow streetlamp and white showcase lighting mixed to reveal a man just brushing his thirties, tan and dark blonde. His brow was too heavy for him to be truly handsome and the whites of his eyes were close to feral. Dark cursive bit into the bottom right hand corner of the photo.

Hibari's other hand curled over his tonfa.

"What is his name?" he asked, without taking his eyes off the target. The cursive blurred in contrast to the sharp edges and filthy hunger in the man's face. Hibari didn't want that, he wanted to know the true pronunciation of this person's name.

"Duilio Nicolosi," she said.

-/\\-  
There was a cold burn in the palms of his empty hands, but the colder metal of his tonfa would do nothing without a target.

Hibari was all energy with no meaningful direction as he paced the streets of town. Celeste had excused herself as Hibari's hackles had slowly risen and stayed risen. Every foreign-structured face snatched at the edges of his attention. This was enemy turf. The next wavy-haired head of brown or blonde hair could very well be the heir or the right hand or the shady advisor or the newly discovered protégé.

The enemy was everywhere. He was surrounded. They might attack at any moment.

He invited it.

He was restless with anticipation. With irritation. The urge to do something,  _anything_ , itched in his hands and back and forearms.

Duilio Nicolosi's photo was burning a hole in his pocket. Without even meeting him, Hibari knew this mission would come to steel and blood. Those eyes provoked Hibari's defences and he was in overdrive. The apartment was too small and the streets were all wrong and too crowded.

He returned to the apartment but found no rest there, pacing and searching, brief and directionless, in the sprawling internet before pacing again.

Duilio meant war. Nicolosci was a town in Sicily. Sicily was ten and a half hours away by ferry.

Eve's Original Sin was one part apple vodka, two parts apple schnapps, three parts 7-up and one part lemon juice. But then why was it green, ice cold shaken with a slice of green apple and sour? The bartender's original sin was having it on the menu.

 _Affronto_  was Italian for insult.

He really needed time to wind down, to go from a million miles a minute to something sedate and maybe sleep sometime this night. He should have finished that drink.

One in the morning was past his usual sleeping time.

Two in the morning seemed a good time to compile documents and print files. His head felt fuzzy like he'd been awake since five which he had.

Three in the morning was when the other resident of the flat stumbled home.

"'M back," Gokudera mumbled, leaning against the wall as he took off his shoes.

Hibari indicated the kitchen table with the lift of his head, and Gokudera turned to stare fuzzily at it.

"Whassat?" Gokudera asked, walking over to inspect the three stacks of neatly sorted and stapled papers. He picked up the top sheet of the nearest pile, and the rows of numbers made the sheet look grey from where Hibari stood.

"Personal accounts," Hibari said shortly. "Mafia," he said, indicating the stack furthest from Gokudera. "School director," the smallest pile, set in the middle. "Stocks, shares and real estate," the one closest to the other guardian, which by a clear inch was the tallest stack.

"How'd he get a school to accept a madman as a director," Gokudera said to himself, abandoning the spreadsheets and flipping cursorily through the 'mafia' stack. He paused.

"These are only for the last three weeks," Gokudera frowned, actually coming across as coherent.

"My records are in Japan," Hibari retorted, folding his arms. "I had Kusakabe fax these."

Gokudera snickered. Hibari moved his weight forward and he was more than willing to turn from words to steel if there was even the slightest reason but Gokudera raised one hand to ask for a moment.

"Sorry, sorry," he snickered, privy to some joke that was not available to the sober. "Not laughing at you," he clarified, almost serious before breaking into a half-giggle. "Laughing at fax. It's a funny word. 'Fax'. Pfft."

Hibari tilted his head, and stated the obvious. "You are too drunk to be reading those documents."

"What?" Gokudera blinked, then scowled. "Of course I can! I'm Vongola's fucking right hand man, damn right I can process some bits of paper. Also!" He swayed slightly on his feet before eyeing Hibari suspiciously and raising an arm to point dramatically at the air next to Hibari's shoulder. "Also, you… are particular over the weirdest things."

Gokudera nodded sagely.

"How much did you drink?" Hibari had to ask. He was not going to tolerate this a second time. Not unless he had good  _sake_  and better backup on hand.

Gokudera counted haphazardly on his fingers, with either concentration or confusion across his face.

"A lot," he concluded, giving up.

"Go sleep," Hibari almost-sighed. He was past the point of caring.

"You're an asshole," Gokudera declared, knees half-giving out to fall onto the couch. "But kinda dependable," he said seriously, then paused. "No, not dependable, what's the word? Capable?" He thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Whatever, still an asshole."

Then he yawned and flopped over to steady breathing and closed eyes.

Hibari stood in the bedroom doorway and looked over the dimly lit flat and the herbivore passed out on the furniture. Time in the early hours of the morning was a strange thing, and Hibari wasn't sure how long he stood there, in an almost surreal place.

His messenger ping-ed in quick succession on his phone.

He blinked, and pulled it out from his pocket. He stared at the screen, took a long moment to decide whether it was worth answering and finally tapped the unlock code.

**Hey Hibari-san, how is the mission going? –27**

**Also, how is Gokudera-kun? He didn't text his usual report today. –27**

**Is everything alright? –27**

**Oh wait, you're probably asleep. Gah. Well, whenever you see this, then. Let me know please thanks.—27**

**Yes. –18**

**The herbivore is unharmed. –18**

**For now. –18**

**Oh wow, you're actually awake! And that's good to hear though it'd be really nice if you could stop calling everyone a—27**

… **Hibari-san, could you not joke like that first thing in the morning? I'd prefer if I get my headaches only after I've gotten a couple of hours of paperwork in. –27**

**The herbivore being unharmed was a fact. –18**

**It probably will not remain a fact. –18**

**That was a joke. –18**

**Maybe. –18**

**Hibari-san! What does that mean!? –27**

Switching off his phone, Hibari closed the bedroom door to the 'partner' who wasn't bad but didn't fit, and found he was too tired to be angry.

Things would be fine. They always were.

That night, Hibari dreamt of Mediterranean isles, fishermen besieged by crows, and the smell of blood over napalm, dirt and ozone.

-/\\-

**This is not funny! Are you guys in trouble? Do you need backup? –27**

**(Message undelivered.)**

**Did you turn your phone off!? I am actually worried here and I bet you're laughing at me being worried! –27**

**(Message undelivered.)**

… **or WILL laugh at me being worried. Seeing as the messages aren't going through right now... –27**

**(Message undelivered.)**

**ehhhhhhasjdfhjkl it is too early in the morning for this. Please can you just try to get along with Gokudera-kun and stay out of trouble. PLEASE. Thank you. –27**

**(Message undelivered.)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Encouragement is appreciated QwQ


	7. Understanding

17 Jan

Gokudera stared up at the ceiling for a good ten minutes after he woke.

As hangovers went, this was pretty mild. His head felt like it was padded with cotton. He had fuzzy memories of walking home, and a slightly more questionable sense of balance than usual. On a scale of "fine" to "my brains are being held together by sheer willpower kill me now", this was "let me close my eyes for a bit".

The  _problem_  was Hibari, sitting at the low table again. After the last fiasco, the image was far more déjà vu than Gokudera was comfortable with.

"It's noon," Hibari announced almost casually. His fingers tapped on the tabletop, and there was charged anticipation in his little shifts of posture.

The table was a disaster of paper and ink.

No getting out of it.

"Good morning to you too," Gokudera sighed.

"Afternoon," Hibari corrected. The silver of his eyes gleamed in a way that made Gokudera suspect his fellow guardian was in the manic phase of sleep deprived work. God knew Gokudera knew what  _that_  was like. Then again, bloodlust was an uncomfortably plausible explanation too.

"Right."

"You were drunk," Hibari informed him, fingertips of one hand lightly shifting a few of the papers on the table. A square of printed colour appeared, a small segment of a map.

"I wasn't," Gokudera protested immediately.

Hibari scoffed and shifted more paper to reveal another square of printed colour, a photograph.

"You laughed at the word 'fax'."

"Okay." Gokudera had no memory of that. "So apparently I find a lot of stuff funny when I've had eighty euros' worth of drinks."

A pen went shrrkkk across a single sheet of paper.

"There was no need to finish the tab."

"And waste  _eighty euros_?"

"It wasn't your money," Hibari replied, a steel pointedness in his words. The paper went to the floor, joining its fellows in a neat vertical graveyard. Hibari piled paper the way he piled bodies, distracted annoyance and easy disregard. Neat, all things considered.

"Have you eaten?" Gokudera asked.

Hibari capped his pen with the same hand that held it, a deft, economical movement.

"I haven't," he replied, and like that, he was gone, already in the kitchen. Gokudera heard the click of the stove and the familiar whoosh of gas catching fire. Knife on chopping board, quick and even.

With a deep inhale, Gokudera swung himself into sitting up, and standing. He glanced at the deep blue Japanese marking the papers. Hibari's writing was readable, but the actual meaning was a mystery.

_War (Crow). From 3h (check why). Horse x x. Blonde herbivore + fisherman. X (old man v crow). X (?)._

_War._

Circle. Underline. Star.

A clash of yellow and blue highlighter, all within  _Costeggiare_  territory.

A chill ran down Gokudera's spine. He didn't have the Tenth's intuition, but the disjointed shorthand was grim.

"You've been working hard," Gokudera said to make conversation. He glanced over at Hibari, who ignored him.

Apparently Hibari had used the low table because the kitchen table was already half covered, with three stacks of papers on the side Gokudera usually ate.

"I remember this," Gokudera frowned, approaching the kitchen table. He took the top sheet from the left. It was a report on negotiating tribute from the  _Ferrovalle_  family, with a receipt of transfer. Gokudera had read the report and placing it on the Tenth's desk himself.

The top document of the next stack had minutes from a board meeting, along with the invoice for the remuneration for a director. Hibari was the Chairman of Namimori, apparently. Gokudera was not surprised a whit.

Gokudera's eyes skittered away from the stack even as curiosity urged him to devour everything, because this chance would never come again. These were  _Hibari's personal accounts_. Gokudera didn't know Hibari well enough for this not to be invasive.

He must have offended the Cloud Guardian quite badly, to be offered this.

"I," Gokudera started. Hibari glanced back, eyes narrowed.

"Your accounts are your own business," Gokudera said, sitting back. He leaned slightly to the side to try and see past Hibari's body. "What's for lunch?"

The toaster 'ding'-ed and Hibari set two pieces of toast on a plate, then slid a neat omelette from the pan.

"Good that you know," Hibari said flatly, placing the plate beside the last stack of papers. Gokudera suspected it was less approval than acceptance of an almost-apology.

"Thanks," Gokudera said, picking up his fork. "Long missions  _and_  school director though. It's a miracle you get any sleep," Gokudera commented.

"Sleep is for the weak," Hibari replied as he turned away. His words were a strange, sideways camaraderie that made Gokudera feel like he was entrusted with a hair-trigger bomb. It was a dangerous amusement that  _Gokudera_  of all people was asking that.

"So you  _can_  joke," Gokudera shot back, picking up a square of toast. "Hot!" he exclaimed, dropping it back onto the plate. Hibari started cutting apples, dropping them into a bowl of ice water.

Was that a tiny smirk?

It was.

Petty bastard.

"Coffee?" Gokudera asked, cutting his omelette with the side of his fork.

Hibari's eyes flicked to a stack of paper. Gokudera followed and oh, he hadn't seen the cup by there earlier. He sipped, and sure enough, Hibari didn't put enough sugar again.

"Sugar," Gokudera requested. There was a short pause. "Please," Gokudera added.

The doorbell rang.

Hibari's fingers tightened on the knife handle. Gokudera's went to his lighter.

" _Good morning, boys_!" the landlord called from outside the door.

"Oh," Gokudera breathed, relaxing minutely.

" _Can I come in_?" she asked. " _I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I need to collect the rent._"

Hibari turned to glare at Gokudera.

"Shit," Gokudera muttered, looking at the mess of papers which Angel definitely could not be allowed to see.

"You hide the papers, I'll stall her," Gokudera said, slipping out of his chair. He grabbed his wallet from the couch and grabbed the scarf Angel had given him and threw it around his neck.

Gale, Gale, Gale. Sleepy, slightly absent-minded writer, not pre-coffee, struggling-to-understand-his-partner _mafioso_.

Gokudera opened the door with an embarrassed smile.

" _Good morning, ma'am_!" Gokudera said in Italian, stepping out into the cold and hurriedly closing the door after him. " _I'm terribly sorry about being late, it completely slipped my mind, with all the research I've been doing_."

" _No worries, no worries at all, dear_ ," she smiled. Her lipstick was hot pink to match her light blonde.

Gokudera fumbled with his wallet.

" _You look well_ ," Angel remarked. " _How is everything? How is the place? You like the scarf?_ "

" _Yes, yes, thank you. I like the scarf. The place is also nice_ ," Gokudera replied, pulling out the notes to count them better. " _By the way, could we shift the payment to the beginning of every month? I think it'd be easier to remember, sorry_."

" _Sure thing, dearie. So you want to pay a month and a half now? Then I will next come by on first March_."

Gokudera did the math in his head, then checked his wallet again.

" _I'm afraid I don't have enough on me right now_ ," he admitted.

" _How about Kaoru_?" she asked.

And now there was no way to get out of inviting her in.

" _Right, I'll just check with him_?" And pray that Hibari had enough time to hide all the papers. " _Would you like to come in for some coffee? I need to check whether he's decent first though_."

" _Oh, yes, please_."

Gokudera opened the door a crack.

"Hey, Kaoru, everything okay? I'm inviting the landlord in for tea," he asked in Japanese.

"What for?" Hibari asked from the end of the corridor. The little Gokudera could see of the low table was clear.

"Rent. Do you happen to have a fifty I could use? I'll make a note to reimburse you."

Hibari frowned slightly and turned away.

"I'm inviting her in now," Gokudera called after him. No reply.

"Hey, did you hear me?" Gokudera asked.

"I did."

" _Okay, everything is fine. Please, come in_ ," Gokudera directed at Angel.

" _Thank you_ ," she beamed, and walked right in before Gokudera could stop her.

" _Good morning, Kaoru_!" she said from behind the dividing wall.

" _I don't speak Italian_ ," Hibari reminded her in flawless Italian.

Gokudera hurriedly turned the lock and went after her.

Angel was at the table and Hibari was behind the counter, still cutting apples. Not a sheet of paper was in sight.

" _Oh, these are adorable_," the landlord gushed. Gokudera walked up and peered over her shoulder. Hibari had made rabbit shapes, with the red skin sticking up and cut into a 'V', before placing them in neat circles facing the edges of the plate.

" _Can I have one?"_ Angel asked, pointing to make her meaning clear.

Hibari indicated the plate, palm facing up and mouth thin.

" _You have to teach me how to make these one day, I'm rubbish at these sorts of things_," she commented, admiring a piece before eating it. " _It must be a Japanese thing, the food you make is always so wonderfully presented, dear_."

Hibari's murderous aura was practically visible even without activating the cloud ring.

"Calm down," Gokudera mouthed hurriedly. The landlord sensed it too.

" _Oh, did I do something?_ " she asked, looking between Gokudera and Hibari quickly. Gokudera gave her a weak smile. She turned back and lightly touched Hibari's wrist. " _Sorry Kaoru, I didn't mean to be insensitive_."

It was a  _fucking miracle_  she was still alive.

"The money is on the table," Hibari said through gritted teeth. The 'get her out, now' went unsaid.

"Make coffee," Gokudera replied, swiping the money off the low table. "I'll deal with it.  _Here, for the half-month_ ," Gokudera said, passing Angel the money.

She counted the total, and used the calculator on her phone to check the amount before handing over some change.

" _Thank you very much_ ," she said, slipping the money into her purse. She looked at the cup of coffee before her. It was black as night and there was no spoon on the saucer.

"Sugar," Gokudera said before she could.

"I already put some," Hibari snapped.

"Probably not enough," Gokudera pointed out.

Hibari took the sugar and walked round the counter to place it beside Gokudera's hand.

"Make her leave or I bite you to death," Hibari said lowly.

"I'm trying, in case you haven't noticed," Gokudera hissed back, smiling at Angel in a futile attempt to defray her growing concern.

Hibari glowered at him sideways before stalking into the bedroom and shutting the door.

" _Are you fighting?"_  Angel asked, sipping her coffee. Her lipstick left a bright mark on the white ceramic. Gokudera made a mental note to clean that later, or Hibari would hold it against her.

" _It's not a good time for company_ ," Gokudera shrugged. With Hibari, there never was a good time for company.

" _I see_ ," Angel said with a cryptic look Gokudera didn't think he liked.

" _I don't think I've mentioned, but he's actually quite conservative_ ," Gokudera said, to fill the pause as they both drank their coffee. " _I think it'd be best if you didn't use_ yobisute _with him, it's considered kind of rude._ "

" _Yo-bee-soo-teh_?" the landlord echoed, pencilled eyebrows scrunching together.

" _Using a name without honorifics_ ," Gokudera explained. " _Since he doesn't know you well, calling him by his first name is a show of..._ " he paused, struggling for an adjective. "...  _contempt_?"

Contempt wasn't quite it. It was disrespect, a stranger intruding by presuming familiarity given to friends and family, inappropriate at the very least.

" _Oh my_ ," Angel said, one hand to her mouth. " _I didn't mean to_!"

" _I know_ ," Gokudera said placatingly. " _He's just particular. It'll be fine if you just tag '-_ san' _after his name._ "

" _So, Kaoru-_ san?" she tested.

Gokudera nodded. Her accent was terrible, but it would be enough to get her past the kill zone. He stirred more sugar into his own coffee, though it was a bit too cold to dissolve properly anymore. They drank quickly.

" _Well, I had better be going_ ," Angel said, standing. " _Thank you for the coffee_."

" _You're most welcome_ ," Gokudera replied, leading her out. Her stiletto boots clacked on the floor.

She eyed the couch, with its rumpled blankets and single pillow. She looked at Gokudera with a sharp edge to her eyes and his smile froze on his face.

" _You_ …" she began to ask.

Gokudera ducked his head.

" _You were right, we're fighting_ ," he blurted out, then winced at how fake it sounded. " _Um, he needed some space and. Yeah. I'll shut up and get the door_."

" _Hang in there, sweetie_ ," the landlord said sympathetically, patting his shoulder as she stepped out. Then, as if letting him in on a conspiracy, she leaned forward and added " _If all else fails, make up sex usually works._ "

Gokudera choked.

" _BYE_!" he managed to get out before slamming the door. The landlord laughed.

Holy  _shit_ , what the fuck even was…  _stop_ thinking about— ** _ughhhh_** , no. Just.  _No_.

Gokudera prayed Hibari hadn't heard that. Oh  _God_ , this was a fucking spectacular cock-up in hindsight and… bad choice of words. He needed brain bleach. About ten galleons of brain bleach.

An  _industrial vat_  of brain bleach.

And maybe a painkiller for the headache he was starting to feel.

Gokudera locked the door and turned.

"Fucking hell!" he exclaimed.

Hibari stood, wraith-like, at the end of the narrow corridor. The backlight from the drawn curtains made his expression unreadable. The edges of his tonfa gleamed softly.

"If you cannot even remember such simple things,  _go home_ ," Hibari said, deceptively casual.

"I did not  _forget_ ," Gokudera shot back. He stepped forward, essentially unarmed. Bombs were out of the question, so all he had were shoes and picture frames he didn't own.

Hibari growled, and that was all the warning Gokudera got before cold steel slammed into his chest.

Gokudera's shoulder hit the wall but his feet were too far forward to scramble to stand. Hibari lunged forward with one arm raised. Eyes widened, Gokudera reached up and caught the blow, jarring his wrist to wrench Hibari's arm down.

Gokudera twisted, dragging Hibari to the floor.

A sharp exhalation as Hibari went down. An elbow landed roughly on his side.

" _Herbivore_ ," Hibari spat, struggling to get his arm out of Gokudera's grip.

Gokudera grit his teeth and pressed down harder on Hibari's shoulder and chest. His ribs felt fragile. Pain ripped his breath from him with every glancing jab Hibari landed.

 _Doesn't hurt_ , Gokudera told himself.  _Doesn't fucking hurt_.

Snarling wordlessly, Hibari abandoned his tonfa. The arm that Gokudera was holding down was suddenly going for his throat.

Gokudera jerked his weight back, down. A small noise from Hibari before Gokudera's face crashed into the wall. Splitting pain spread red and hot from the front of Gokudera's skull.

" _Shit_ ," Gokudera swore through his teeth.

He turned, dragging Hibari's arm. The Cloud Guardian went up over his back and—

THUD.

Gokudera grinned vindictively into the floor. Hibari's struggling weakened.

Barely half a second.

A knee caught under Gokudera's hip. Gokudera saw brown, cream, black, steel. He was on his back. Hibari was pulling away.

"Like  _hell_ ," Gokudera growled. He grabbed the back of Hibari's head and smashed their foreheads together. Hibari flinched. Gokudera wrestled him to the floor again and pinned him, one forearm across the dark-haired man's chest, the other on Hibari's dominant hand.

"Stupid crowding herbivore," Hibari muttered, eyes squeezed shut.

Blood trailed down Hibari's face, painting a morbid battle mark across one cheekbone as dictated by gravity. Another drop splattered onto the man's face. Gokudera's blood, not Hibari's.

"Same to you," Gokudera retorted.

Hibari took a slow breath. The movement shifted Gokudera's arm and sent a sharp twinge of pain through his ribs.

Gokudera's forehead throbbed. Fuck that had hurt, but theory warned him not to let the smaller-build Hibari get away from full contact brawling  _whatever it took_.

Mercury eyes snapped open.

Hibari's free hand buried itself in Gokudera's hair. Gokudera was pulled sideways into the floor. He landed on an arm. Hibari's sharp exhalation was loud enough to cover Gokudera's own surprised hiss.

Gokudera barely had time to register it when he felt the other guardian drawing away.

Grabbing Hibari's arm with both hands, Gokudera slammed one knee into Hibari's waist, turned, and dropped Hibari into the floor. Hibari's elbow hit the door in a reverberating shock that didn't show so much as a flicker across his face.

"Alright!" Gokudera shouted at Hibari. "Stop being a fucking madman and let's  _talk._ "

Hibari struggled to pull away again, back hitting the door handle as he tried to stand.

Gokudera cursed and grabbed Hibari by the front of his shirt. Knees slipping on tiled floor, Hibari fell heavily. One elbow caught Gokudera on a tender point between collar bone and arm, nearly popping the ball out of the joint.

" ** _Fuck_**!" Gokudera snarled, drawing that arm under himself protectively. Half sitting up, Gokudera slammed his other elbow square in the middle of Hibari's back. With a grunt of pain, Hibari turned, curling up his torso slightly to face Gokudera.

"Done, bastard?" Gokudera challenged between ragged breaths.

A smirk and Hibari's knee caught him under the chin. The following kick snapped Gokudera's head back a second before his upper body thudded onto the floor. He  _skidded_ , shoes pushed along with him, collecting at his neck and head. He smelt leather and street filth and rubber.

Hibari was back on his feet, Gokudera's blood painting jagged scars on his face.

"I'll bite you to death," Hibari breathed, adrenaline in his eyes.

He casually picked up one of his tonfa from the floor, and brought it to chest level, at an angle.

Gokudera managed to swipe the other tonfa and raise it just as Hibari lashed out. The clash of steel shuddered down Gokudera's arms to his very bones, but by sheer, dumb luck, the meeting angles carried Hibari further forward and off balance.

Gokudera kicked wildly and Hibari stumbled, falling to one knee. The dark-haired man gathered himself, drawing both legs under him. He was standing almost immediately.

Gokudera charged forward, slamming Hibari against the wall.

Grey eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing again. Hibari drew one arm back. Gokudera's mind flinched away, but in a mix of ' _move move **move** '_ and ' _no way he has space for a proper windup_ ', Gokudera took the hit. He turned with the momentum and threw Hibari to the floor.

Hibari rolled with the fall, and went into an easy crouch. Gokudera tackled him blindly, trying to get the dark-haired man to  _stay down._ He got a hold on Hibari's upper arms, and planted one knee in Hibari's sternum. He gripped 'til he was damn sure he was cutting off circulation.

Even with Gokudera's weight pressing down on his chest, Hibari's liquid metal eyes burned. He dropped his tonfa again and his hands came up to encircle Gokudera's wrists.

Gokudera had never been more wildly pissed off in his  _life_.

"THE  _FUCK_  DO I NEED TO SAY TO GET YOU TO  _FUCK OFF_?"

Hibari's lips slid into an easy, predatory smirk.

"I'll fucking rig your bike to explode," Gokudera snarled. "I'll light up the  _whole **goddamn**  block_ and I'll be  _done_ with your complete  _bullshit_ ,  _you hear me_?"

A beat.

The pounding of Hibari's heart, fast and strong, through the fabric of his shirt.

Gokudera's ribs hurt like hell just by breathing.

"Enough, then," Hibari agreed. "Stop crowding me."

Gokudera let up slowly, frowning, just in case it was a trick. Hibari sat up and gathered his tonfa, collapsing them back into four inch bars.

"Tell the landlord to not act so familiar," he said, clipping his tonfa to his belt and standing in a fluid motion.

"I did," Gokudera scowled. A twang of pain shot across his face. Hibari shrugged off this new information as he walked away.

"Ensure it," he responded unrepentantly as he rounded the diving wall. There was the sound of running water.

"Why don't you be the one to fucking deal with her and see how you like it," Gokudera said loudly.

Hibari did not deign to reply.

Gokudera's chest twinged. Hibari had all his speed and weight behind that tonfa when it connected. Gokudera made a quick run over his ribs with his fingers and winced. Nothing broken, probably. Maybe a hairline fracture and a very interesting bruise, in which case there was nothing to do but suck it up. He would have to see a doctor to be sure.

The running water stopped.

"You were faster than I thought, herbivore," Hibari complimented monotonously, out of sight.

"Yeah? Thanks for nothing you violent sonnovabitch," Gokudera replied, gingerly prodding his bleeding nose.

"I don't make the same mistakes twice," Hibari declared. He appeared with a bag of ice, a box of tissue and a first aid case.

"Fix yourself," Hibari said flatly, depositing the items in Gokudera's lap. "If you make this mission unnecessarily troublesome again, I  _will_ bite you to death."

"Yeah, yeah," Gokudera grumbled, picking up the case. "Big words for the bastard who runs whenever the landlord drops by."

"You have one hour."

"What?"

Hibari's eyes gleamed and Gokudera was beginning to really dislike that look.

"There have been developments."

===/\===

Hibari swept through the Chiavarone house and went straight for a door Gokudera hadn't seen before. He threw them open and walked in without so much as a hitch in his stride.

" _Christ_! Kyouya! What did I say about  _knocking?_ "

Curtain rings were ruthlessly dragged along a rail. Dino hissed.

Gokudera reached the doorway just as the sunlight hit the carpeting. The room was small, with a single twin bed, a desk, and a chair. The  _Chiavarone_  don was sprawled on the bed, in a rumpled white t-shirt and jeans. His gun pointed loosely at the doorway from where he shielded his eyes with his arm.

"Get up, herbivore," Hibari demanded.

Dino didn't budge.

" _Bucking Horse_."

Dino let his arm drop to brush his hair away from his face, but scrunched his eyes shut tighter against the light.

"Kyouya," he started, slowly and reasonably. "I swear to all the hosts of heaven that I  _just_ got home. So please, _please,_ can this wait until later?"

Hibari narrowed his eyes.

"No."

Dino took a deep breath, then groaned like an abused chair and threw his legs over the side of the bed. With visible effort, he swung into an upright position.

"I'm up, I'm up," he yawned then slouched forward, one hand over his face. "Where's the fire?"

"We found Vico Corvi's candidate," Gokudera said from the doorway. Dino's head jerked up and the blonde stared at him blearily.

"Vico Corvi's…" Dino echoed. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. " _God_ , I need a coffee."

"It's your house," Gokudera pointed out, eyebrow raised.

Dino brushed Gokudera's comment out of the air.

"Just sit wherever, Smoking Bomb. Let's get this over with."

Gokudera stepped into the room and Dino did a double take.

"What happened? Did you fall?" Dino asked.

"Over a tonfa to the face, thank you for asking," Gokudera replied shortly, taking the lone chair in the room as Hibari stood by the window in his white overcoat. Gokudera's nose wasn't broken but it still had a little blood crusting around the insides of his nostrils. The area near his left eye was starting to bruise too.

"Nah," Dino returned with a wry smile. "If Kyouya really got you in the face, your cheekbone would be smashed in. Saw it happen to one of the  _Ferrovalle_  guys."

Hibari mouth quirked upward at one corner and Gokudera resisted the urge to give his fellow guardian the finger in front of the  _Chiavarone_  don.

"Hibari," Gokudera prompted and the other Guardian pulled a folded photo from his coat pocket.

"Duilio Nicolosi," Hibari said, holding it out to Dino.

Dino took it and unfolded it, movements lazy but eyes increasingly sharper.

"Don't know him," the blonde commented lightly, passing the photo back to Hibari. "Looks like trouble."

"He is," the Japanese man corrected, tucking the photo back into his pocket like it might break.

"With the build-up, this guy's entrance means that the only way this is going to end is a succession war," Gokudera elaborated. "He has the blood."

"Old Man's bastard?" Dino asked. He shook his head before Gokudera could answer. "Can't say I'm surprised."

"I ran a check," Gokudera confirmed. "Duilio was born and raised a Sicilian. Mother was a favoured fling. Mari's legal wife wasn't happy about it, so she had to go."

"The boy wasn't brought up in the family?" Dino asked sharply.

Gokudera nodded.

"Yeah, but there are enough people in Sicily that he knows how things work, and he got this far. Looks like Vico thought that was close enough."

"This explains a lot," Dino muttered, frowning. "He has to get made first though, and people won't be happy to have a new brat come in to top brass without proving himself, Old Man's blood or no."

"Which is why there is division and this is going to end up with a shit ton of in-fighting," Gokudera concluded.

Dino nodded thoughtfully.

"I sent Kyouya the list of captains who have been swinging to Vico's side," Dino contributed. "They are mostly the younger crowd. The older ones cling closer to tradition. They don't like Peppe but they swore loyalty to the Old Man." He gave a slow, grudging nod. "Where he goes, they'll go."

Gokudera inclined his head in acknowledgement. Old loyalties were natural, familiar. It was the young and untried ones that threw chaos into the mix.

"What's the distribution of the sides now?" Gokudera asked.

Dino's brows furrowed.

"Thirty-seventy? Twenty-eighty?" he guessed. "There aren't a lot of young captains. Not enough territory for a new guy to pull in cash, and there are only so many hits going out. Might change, have to see how Old Man reacts."

"The movement of the herbivore successor has been restricted for several days," Hibari added. He wasn't pacing, but there were little shifts in his stance which might as well have been. "He has yet to meet the new one."

"I don't think Peppe knows about him," Gokudera pointed out. "Duilio just arrived, and I'm sure as hell the Old Man wouldn't advertise his indiscretions like that."

Dino snorted.

"You'd be surprised," he said.

Hibari glanced at the blonde and Dino's smile edged higher on one side.

"The new one also has very little movement," Hibari continued, eyebrow quirking a bit in Dino's direction before addressing Gokudera as well. "He stays with the lawyer's people in deep territory."

"I guess I missed quite a bit, huh," Dino half-asked. He spread his fingers, palms up and amiable. "All I have to add is that the younger captains are pulling a lot of associates into their ranks. The streets are flooding with them."

"I can guess why," Gokudera said dryly. "They want to inflate the influence of the younger crowd. The only way to stop it would be for Old Man to step in, and if he does, everyone will see that Peppe Mari is not capable of becoming boss."

"Vico Corvi is a smart man," Dino shrugged. "We have to wait and see what kind of man his nominee is."

"The question then is what we do from here," Gokudera decided. "Is there any way for us to move so that we can affect the events in our favour?"

Dino took a deep breath, and exhaled in a hiss. By the window, Hibari shook his head once.

"Don't know enough yet," Hibari said lowly.

"Too much change," Dino agreed. "If we go in now, it's likely we'd just get caught on the wrong foot."

Gokudera nodded.

"Yeah. What we need are people on the inside. Hibari, can you get people on this mess?"

Hibari tilted his head.

"I have people close enough to the herbivore successor, but the less herbivorous one that follows him around is problematic," he said, a split-second of teeth flashing over his speech. "They are still approaching the lawyer. He is cautious. I will tell them to see to the new one as well."

"Maybe throw a few near the old crowd and see what happens," Dino suggested. "If you pare down the numbers and even it out a bit, their structure would be compromised."

Hibari nodded assent and Gokudera's slammed its brakes. That wasn't right, but the absurdity was wrapped in reasonableness and the sheer  _gall_ of this blonde  _bastard_. Before Gokudera knew it, he was standing, one hand gripping the back of his chair and glaring at the  _Chiavarone_  don.

"Are you  _trying_ to fuck up?" Gokudera spat.

Dino looked at Gokudera like Gokuderawas the crazy one here. Gokudera's nails dug into the back of the chair.

This man was dangerous. This man smiled like the  _agnello sacrificale_ , like the lamb with fleece as white as snow. He went like a dove while the ones who followed him painted the tiles with blood in his name. The worst part was that he did it  _easily_ , without even having to think.

"It makes sense," Dino said, eyes earnest chocolate. "If they worry about each other, we can negotiate with them while they are distracted. It has the added benefit of giving us more leeway to protect the innocents on the streets. Don't you want that?"

How the  _fuck_  did he make it sound so plausible?

"They aren't just going to ' _worry about each other'_ ," Gokudera shot back. "They are going to  _fight_."

"Sometimes a gun is the only thing these people know how to respect," Chiavarone pointed out. "Cleaning them out would work."

"If they fight," Gokudera started slowly and clearly. "There will be collateral damage. If they fight, they will need resources and they will hit the market harder. They will send out more hits, and those hits could affect our inside men. They will be suspicious as  _fuck_  about anyone who approaches them. We won't even know which side to approach, because who can tell who'll win? And worse, they won't want to deal with us because we will be the ones who caused it. That is  _a fucking stupid idea_."

Dino looked unaffected, still  _nice_ and Gokudera snapped.

"Don't you dare try to use the  _Vongola_  for your dirty work," he bit out.

Dino's expression hardened instantly.

"Easy on the accusations, Smoking Bomb," Dino replied carefully. "I don't think Tsuna would want us fighting."

"What  _Vongola Decimo_  wants,  _Chiavarone_  don, is  _peaceful_  co-existence and  _success_ ," Gokudera retorted, the bite of his rank in his voice. "This is not about killing your enemies. This is about  _winning_. This about the long game. If you can't understand that, your assistance with this mission can end here."

Dino looked from Gokudera to Hibari. Gokudera's eyes automatically followed, but Hibari was merely watching the exchange with thinly-veiled interest. His arms were crossed.

Gokudera looked back at Dino. The blonde regarded him a long while, but Gokudera didn't know the look. It was something cool and dangerous, something civil and dignified.

"If you want that pit of vipers, I won't stop you," Dino said at last, a parting shot but not a protest. "What do you need?"

"From you?" Gokudera said reflexively, mind whirling through the possibilities and settling on a solution. "A distraction. Don't give them a square inch of territory. Also, stay away for a while. Our cover is under suspicion."

Hibari made a sound that sounded almost like disgust, and walked between them, going for the door.

Dino huffed a laugh.

"I guess we're done," Dino said, standing. "I'll walk you out."

The edge of Hibari's white coat disappeared around the corner.

"Thank you," Gokudera said stiffly.

Dino fell into step beside Gokudera, pace languid. Gokudera already didn't recognise the walls and Hibari was nowhere to be seen. His chest kindly reminded him that breathing hurt like a bitch now, since there weren't plans to distract him anymore.

"No hard feelings?" Dino asked.

"No," Gokudera lied through his teeth and lengthened his stride.

"I see," Dino said, matching him. The  _Chiavarone_  boss looked around at the décor politely like it wasn't his own damn house he was walking in. Gokudera felt like a wound spring-trigger, tight and brimming with potential energy. Even the peripheral blurs of Dino's footsteps made him want to throw punch or ten.

He kept walking.

"I was going to apologise," the blonde said after a long silence.

He looked at Gokudera with a perfect half-smile, hopeful and gentle and golden. It was so very similar to the Tenth's that for a moment, Gokudera could see why people followed this man. (He would never, though. He would rather claw his heart out from the middle of his chest and  _die_.)

"No need." Gokudera turned a last corner into the lobby. Through the segmented glass windows he could see Hibari outside, talking to one of Dino's men.

"Hey," Dino said, swinging to face Gokudera and block the view of the door. "Can't we be friends?" he offered both a smile and a hand. Across the back of Dino's fingers, the  _Chiavarone_  stallions flanked a tiny metal shield.

"I don't think so," Gokudera replied.

===/\===

**Heyyyyyy! How is everything going?—86**

**Everyone is an asshole. –59**

**Lol that means you too –86**

**Yes. I'm an asshole and you're an asshole and this asshole who fell asleep in the patch of sun from the balcony is also an asshole. Everyone is an asshole. –59**

**Pffft work sucked huh –86**

**WORK is fine. PEOPLE on the other hand. –86**

**Anything interesting happen? –86**

**Interesting things happened. Note the past tense. –59**

**Basically lots of potential and none of the preparation to take advantage of it. –59**

**Very frustrating. –59**

**Awww im sorry –86**

**Well, we made our moves and now we wait. –59**

**I hate waiting. –59**

**Youre in Italy go have some fun go do touristy things! –86**

**I LIVED here most of my life. Why the fuck would I do tourist things. –59**

**Okay you can bring hibari to do touristy things! –86**

…  **And now I have the weirdest fucking mental image of this asshole in a Hawaiian shirt. Thanks a lot. –59**

**Lol! Your head keeps dressing him up –86**

**Its super funny first a paladin prince and now a Hawaiian shirt! It could be a sailor moon outfit next! –86**

**What. The. Actual. Fuck. –59**

**Or like a naked apron or something hahaha!—86**

**FUCK YOU WITH A TEN FOOT POLE WOMAN –59**

**OH MY GOD I DID NOT NEED THAT MENTAL IMAGE—59**

**FUCK YOU VERY VERY MUCH—59**

**Are you sure you want to delete this conversation?**

** YES ** **.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments much appreciated pls pls thank


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